


This Melody Was Meant For You

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dining halls, EDM/Producer Louis, M/M, Music school AU, Parties, Rehearsals, Strangers to Lovers, Study Sessions, Tattoos, Uni AU, Violinist Harry, me entertaining me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: The Marie Henry Conservatory of Music has been around for ages, and not once has it ever admitted anybody besides the traditional, classical music student. Or at least they hadn’t until a few select outsiders are let in to mix things up and to give someone like Louis a chance.





	1. Chapter 1

The rows of stage lights burning above everyone’s heads look like dozens of stars twinkling in the night sky, almost as if someone intentionally punched tiny holes into the smooth rounded ceiling of the room just to illuminate it with heavenly light, and it’s beautiful. This entire concert hall is gorgeous and more majestic-looking than anyplace Louis has ever been. Which may be why he feels so wildly out of place sitting in the audience amongst the hundreds of people who do belong here. _Peers_ , Louis mentally corrects himself, and not for the first time this week. Students, just like him.

The proud voice of their chancellor echoing throughout the hall draws Louis’ attention back to the stage where all the lights are aimed at him and the old wooden podium with the school’s initials proudly emblazoned on it in crimson and gold.

“Our great school has always prided itself in its outstanding reputation of quality in education, musical performance, and also innovation. That is why it gives me great pleasure to stand before you today as we continue that practice by ushering in a new era here at the Marie Henry Conservatory of Music. And, although Marie Henry was mostly founded upon classical studies, we welcome the exciting and fresh perspectives of each of our non-traditional students in hopes that we will learn as much from them this year as they will from us.”

That rounded ceiling Louis was so impressed by earlier seems to close in on him along with the hundreds of pairs of eyes that seem to turn and narrow at him and the other two non-traditional applicants sitting at his sides.

“The faculty and I are aware of the very… _strong_ opinions that have been expressed about this great change in Marie Henry’s history,” the chancellor continues in a much firmer tone. “Rather than resisting that change, I encourage those people to embrace it instead for what’s done is done. And, as any great community such as ours knows, we’re stronger together.”

The chancellor finishes his speech with the same warm smile he wore in his office while personally welcoming Louis and his counterparts after their acceptance, solidifying them as the official trailblazers of the school. No one else is currently smiling though. In fact, the stony expressions he’s met with in the dark concert hall make him feel less like a trailblazer and more like a sacrificial lamb.

*

_Fall Semester: Day One_

The tiny campus map in Louis’ hand isn’t helping him quite as much as the girl at the student services help desk promised. It does give him a general sense of the place; dorms to the west, classes and other important buildings over to the east, but it’s the microscopic labels printed beside each of the buildings that makes the map impossible to read.

He’s headed towards Fletcher Building for his first Intro to History of Music lecture. Or at least, he _thinks_ he is. It’s kind of hard to tell exactly which buildings are Fletcher, Flannery, and Flemming, but he assumes he’s going the right general direction. He could stop and ask someone of course, but most of the people he sees wandering around are first-year students squinting at maps just like him. And even if those students did know where the hell they’re going, Louis still wouldn’t waste his breath. They certainly wouldn’t waste theirs by talking to him.

As if to make his point, a stiff shoulder roughly knocks into his almost making Louis drop his map; a less-than-subtle reminder for him to stay out of the way and also to remind Louis exactly where he falls along the Marie Henry totem pole. As if he could ever forget. He definitely stands out in a place like this in a way he never did back home. With his Converses and collage of tattoos he’s continuously working to add to he can’t be missed, but it’s not like he’s the only sore thumb student here. His new friend Bebe and her platinum blonde locks turn heads wherever she goes, and then there’s Zayn whose hair has already been two different colors in the very short time they’ve been here and who also happens to have just as many tattoos as Louis if not more. One of these days, they’ll each have to do the math and see who’s winning. One of these days when Louis _isn’t_ running late.

“Excuse you,” Louis says for the boy with a large cello case strapped to his back who just intentionally pushed him and played it off as an accident. It’s not the first warm welcome Louis has received. On move-in day, Louis’ roommate took one look at him and all his sound equipment before heading for the hills to request to be moved. Louis has half a mind to teach this new and more physical person some manners, but the boy has friends and every one of them looks down their noses at Louis like they’re just waiting for him to make that mistake. He’s outnumbered and they aren’t worth it. Not worth him getting expelled on day one so Louis takes the high road and keeps walking, only catching the tail end of an insult as they all head in the opposite direction.

“Excuse _you_ , prick,” the boy says to the sound of his idiot friends’ laughter.

And, yeah. On second thought, Louis definitely should’ve punched him one good time in the face. Or at the very least shoved the arsehole back.

Intro to History of Music turned out to be alright for the most part. You know, once he finally fucking found it. He had to deal with more of the same shit as before when he walked in ten minutes late. People thinking he doesn’t belong and glaring at him to make sure he knows it, but at this point, he has pretty much grown immune. Right now, his only concern is finding a place to sit down to properly label his map before his next class which could be in either Mobely, Melrose, or Matheson building. It’s hard to tell which.

He starts walking with no real destination in mind and finds a nice shaded area behind some tall building. He doesn’t even try and pretend like he knows which one. All he knows is that it’s away from noise and elitist arseholes who think they’re better than him so it’s premium real estate in his opinion.

Louis pulls out his laptop along with the other half of the breakfast muffin he grabbed on the way out of his dorm. He only has a few minutes until his class starts so he quickly searches for an online map of the campus that he can enlarge while he swallows down his food much too quickly. The quality of the map online is much better than the printed one. Louis can’t for the life of him figure out why the student center wouldn’t just print it out as is when the bright, shrill sound of a violin starting up somewhere behind him makes him jump.

“Jesus. Is there no escape?” he mutters to himself. The dorms aren’t even safe with the round-the-clock impromptu practice sessions that can be heard through the walls that not even Louis’ speaker system and studio-grade headphones can drown out. Louis came to this area of campus for the peace and quiet so he’s not sure what this other person is doing playing way out here when this side of campus has rehearsal rooms for this very thing. However, the more Louis listens he realizes he doesn’t actually mind the company, especially if the person playing is this talented. Way more so than some of the others Louis has heard trying out similar pieces.

It’s a difficult one, Louis notices when he can hardly even keep up with the intricacies of the melody let alone imagine the set of skilled hands currently interpreting it. Louis doesn’t know the first thing about playing violin but he knows it takes years of practice and discipline for it to come off even half as effortless as this person is making it sound.

Eventually the suspense grows to be too much and Louis simply has to know who is responsible for such a performance. A quick peek around the side of the wall and into the bottom floor of the open stairwell brings a tall boy in dark jeans into his sights who Louis thinks may be just as beautiful as he music he’s playing with all his dark, tousled hair falling into his face that alternates between being fixed in a soft, heart-felt frown and a joyful smile as he blindly feels the music and sways to it. Every note he plays is pure perfection meaning he’s been doing this for quite some time which takes not only drive and determination, but money. And although his face is pretty and very near perfect as well, Louis knows better than to be fooled by it.

This boy, whoever he is, is probably just another of the privileged and entitled type that Louis has come into contact with again and again while at this school. So, while Louis is thoroughly enjoying the little private concert he’s being given at the moment, he’s also fine to just leave it at that and admire the musician from afar. It’s not worth being glared at or told he’s less than scum for not being able to afford tuition and for preferring to make his music with a laptop rather than a respected instrument found in an orchestra somewhere. There’s that, and also the fact that he’s been sitting here listening for so long he’s now going to be late for his _second_ class today. He wonders if his professor will believe him if he says the hot violin guy is to blame.

By the time afternoon arrives, Louis’ back hurts from carrying the weight of his bag all day, his brain hurts due to information overload from his two classes, and to top it all off, he’s starving after running on nothing but a blueberry muffin as fuel.

He smiles when he gets texts from two of the only people here he can really call friends. The first from Zayn reading ‘ _Hey, Lou. Come meet us for lunch if you’re free,’_ and the second from Bebe which just says, _‘Bring your sexy face over to the dining hall. We’re starving.’_

With an offer like that, how could he possibly refuse?

Louis arrives at the dining hall and then spends several minutes piling his plate full of food before circling the place to find his friends. He doesn’t have to look for long before he sees them both waving him over from one of the back tables near the big bay window.

“Glad you could make it,” Zayn says as he kicks out the free chair for him to sit down.

“Yeah, come and join us at the delinquents table,” Bebe says loud enough to draw the attention of several other tables full of students around them. Based on the wicked grin she sports after they primly look away Louis would daresay it was intentional. “God, people here are so sensitive,” she snorts into a fresh forkful of her pasta.

“Yeah, people here are also _dicks_ ,” Zayn says just as loudly when he notices a few people still staring disapprovingly. Louis’ not sure if it’s his tone, the tiny silver ring pierced through his right nostril, or the bright shade of green his hair is currently dyed on top, but no one in the room dares say anything back. 

“Wow. Rough day at the office, hun?” Louis teases before digging into the burger he’s been salivating over ever since he put it on his plate.

Zayn cracks a smile at that with his eyes all squinted up, instantly losing any sense of intimidation his appearance might imply. “Eh, not really,” he shrugs. “The map sucks. I eventually said fuck it and just took a screenshot.” Why didn’t Louis think of that? “Also, got some dirty looks in my classical guitar studies class this morning because the demonstration piece the professor assigned was really challenging. Well, for everyone else,” he grins to himself as he should for being so amazing.

Bebe gasps in mock horror at Zayn’s story though Louis imagines things will go much the same way for Bebe when she sings in front of the other voice students because she’s incredible. “ _Zayn,_ how dare you actually be qualified to go here? Are you insane?” Her joke makes them all laugh which only draws more attention in their direction, but honestly, who cares? People are going to gawk no matter what they do. “God, I can’t wait to see how friendly and inviting Music Theory is going to be in a few minutes,” she chuckles darkly.

Louis nods in agreement as he chews, his brow furrowing a bit when he realizes after a moment that she got that mixed up. “I think you mean tomorrow,” Louis corrects her through a mouthful of burger. “It’s at eight o’clock.” An absolutely ungodly hour for a class to start, but at least he’ll be amongst friends.

Now, it’s Zayn and Bebe’s brows that are furrowed when Louis looks up from his food.

“Er- No. I meant today. We have it in like, twenty minutes,” Bebe insists, gasping aloud in real horror this time when Louis does nothing but frown. “Oh, no. Don’t tell us you’re in the other section.” Louis’ heart sinks, hoping that’s not the case when he quickly pulls out his schedule. He compares it to each of his friends’, groaning aloud when he realizes Bebe is right.

When he registered for classes a few weeks ago, morning Music Theory was the only section available. Granted, him registering so close to the deadline probably had a lot to do with that, but he didn’t realize his procrastination was going to cost him this dearly.

“Seriously? I’m in there _alone_ at eight o’fucking clock?”

“Damn,” Zayn laments. “That sucks, mate. I thought for sure we all had that class together. I was really looking forward to it.”

And, yeah. So was Louis.

*

Everything about the next morning is ugly and painful when Louis has to drag himself out of bed at seven-thirty. There is no showering or shaving involved when he throws on a mix-matched jogger/hoodie combination and slings his backpack over his shoulders. He lets the morning dew stain the toes of his shoes as he slumps across campus past a random statue of Beethoven in the courtyard and arrives in front of Matheson building surprisingly on time. He’s already prepared to deal with the usual bullshit when he walks in, so he pays no mind to the way everybody is already paired off and grouped with their friends.

There’s a free seat in the back row with a few other lone students who must’ve gotten stuck in this section as well. He flops down in it and sends a text to both Bebe and Zayn telling them how awful they are for being asleep right now, only realizing he has an audience when he looks up from his phone. Louis raises a brow at the group of students watching him from a few rows down. Thankfully, they get the message rather quickly, all five of them facing the front again after a collective glare. Louis ignores them, happy to see the professor walking in a few seconds later to steal all the attention in the room. He pulls his laptop out from his bag so he can take notes once she begins talking, briefly catching the intent gaze of yet another of his ill-mannered classmates as he closes out the new song he was working on last night before bed.

Louis recognizes him almost immediately even without his violin or his eyes closed against it, his ears and cheeks burning red with what looks to be embarrassment rather than anger when he realizes he’s been caught staring. It’s such a stark difference to the way everybody else looks at him that he’s sure his sleepy brain must’ve imagined it when the boy quickly faces the front again just like his friends. However, each time Louis happens to glance past the edge of his laptop over the next hour, he can’t help but notice the slight blush coloring the side of his face that never fully goes away.

During the next few weeks that pass, Louis comes to realize that although his first impressions of his classmates led him to believe he was surrounded by a sea of condescending, narrow-minded idiots (which, mostly, he _is_ ), it seems not everyone at Marie Henry is awful. Louis still receives the cold shoulder most of the time, but now he is also met with the occasional nod or kind grin in passing. Sometimes even a real hello.

His new mate, Niall, is fun to talk to. Louis now considers him a pretty good friend since they have class together twice per week. Sometimes they even have lunch. He plays every kind of guitar imaginable just like Zayn, though classical is more his style. And apparently in addition to being an amazing musician, he’s also quite interested in the art of music production like Louis. In fact, he was so interested that he requested to be added to the school’s new sound engineering and production course bringing the grand total of students taking it up to two. Niall isn’t rude, except to people going out of their way to be rude to Louis. And he has never once made a snide remark about Louis’ place at the school or the fact that he’s only able to be here through a generous scholarship given by the chancellor. And much like his new friend, Louis has never mentioned that he too has been the proud owner of several pairs of worn jeans and beat-up pairs of shoes in his lifetime, realizing pretty early on that the reason Niall never judges him, Zayn, Bebe, or anyone else is because he’s here on scholarship too.  

Besides his one class with Niall, Louis doesn’t get to be with his friends very much during the day. They still try to see each other every chance they get. Especially on Mondays and Wednesdays when they all have a chunk of free time big enough to sit at the delinquents table for lunch.

Someone else Louis sees a lot of but doesn’t really mean to, is the boy from his Music Theory class whom Louis can’t quite figure out. He’s the same one who hides in secluded stairwells playing violin to his heart’s desire and who, oddly enough, blushes every time they happen to lock eyes. The boy, Harry, Louis learns one day thanks to their professor praising him for his key signature analysis, is always surrounded by people though he seems to keep most of them at a fair distance. Oftentimes, he removes himself from the group entirely without even realizing it. Or, perhaps he does. Louis will sometimes see him walking just a step or two behind them or even standing a few feet off from the group for a quiet moment to himself. Even in Music Theory when they all sit clumped together with their instrument cases surrounding them, Harry always sits in the row above or below. There, but not really. Listening as they all whisper and laugh (probably about Louis), but never doing much besides turning to peek up at him.

Louis would like to think he’s just like them no matter how harmless he may seem, but from what he’s seen, every sign points to Harry _not_ being a pompous dick. It’s completely possible Louis did the very thing he hates and never meant to do to another person which is misjudge them.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon when Louis realizes the day of the week meaning Zayn, Bebe, and Niall all have class and can’t meet up for lunch. He could always go alone but that’s never much fun. Neither is trekking all the way back to his dorm when he has class again in less than an hour. He decides to go somewhere much closer once he piles his food inside a take-away box and grabs a few pieces of fruit as well in case he gets hungry later. 

His cool, quiet spot that turned out to be not so quiet on the first day of classes, is deserted when Louis settles back against the brick wall with his lunch and laptop. His History of Music essay is still only partly finished and due on Friday so Louis forgoes playing with the song he’s been mixing for fun to work on his assignment instead: _Explain the significance of music in your life and how it has influenced you._

Music has been Louis’ greatest escape for as long as he can remember. Even more so after his mother died a few years ago. It means the world to him just like the opportunity to formally study it, but it’s not exactly easy to convey all that in essay format. He tries his best as he enjoys the delicious slice of pepperoni pizza he picked up from the dining hall, nearly choking on a bite of it when a bow angrily drags across the strings of a violin.

He knows it’s Harry again without even having to look. It must be, however the piece he’s playing this time isn’t anywhere near as happy. It’s dark and foreboding and obviously something he’s still learning because the music starts and stops at random places only for him to try it again a few seconds later with fresh vigor. Listening to Harry rehearse isn’t nearly as bad as listening to hundreds of people rehearsing all at once back at the dorms. Actually, the sound is quite soothing and it provides Louis with background noise to work by that doesn’t make him want to break out into song or dance like his own high-energy music collection often does.

Louis goes back to his essay, listening as Harry starts from the top, makes some small error that only he hears, and then starts all over again in order to correct it. He does this nearly a dozen times, getting a teeny bit further with it each try until a horrible screeching noise pierces the air along with a colorful string of expletives that he wouldn’t have necessarily pegged someone as straight-laced as Harry to spout off with such ease.

Everything is so still and quiet after his outburst that Louis wonders if Harry has packed up his instrument and called it a day until he hears a steady deep breath being released, letting Louis know his talented study companion is still there. He’s surprised when Harry clears his throat a few seconds later to start again rather than quit. Louis braces himself and his ears for the fallout of another note turned screech, slowly unclenching his eyes and cracking an unexpected grin when the familiar melody of Walk The Moon’s _Shut Up and Dance_ joyfully rings out instead. He loves that song. Never imagined in a million years he’d hear it being played in a place like this.

For a full minute, Louis abandons his essay to nod along to the beat and wordlessly sing all the lyrics like he does whenever he blasts it in his headphones. Or maybe not quite as wordlessly as Louis intended when he looks up and realizes _why_ the music seemed to be getting so much louder, and also, _closer._

“Uh…whoops,” Louis winces, hoping Harry’s not too bothered by his rehearsal being crashed. “Hi there.”

“Hello,” Harry grins back, seemingly not bothered at all since he’s neither scowling, frowning, yelling, or doing that thing where he quite impressively uses a dictionary’s worth of swear words all at once. He looks down at Louis and the little study session slash picnic setup he has going on, snorting a laugh when Louis quickly closes the lid on his half-eaten lunch. “How long have you been hiding over here exactly?” he chuckles.

Lying and saying he just got here is an option, though probably not a very good one since Louis is barefoot and leaned against the building like he owns the place. “Oh, me? Er- Only a very, very little while. No time at all actually,” Louis decides on instead, clearly giving himself away when Harry snorts again.

“Wow. That long, huh?”

“To be fair, I was here first. Both times,” Louis informs him matter-of-factly, only realizing he just gave himself away for a second time when Harry raises an eyebrow.

“So, eavesdropping is a kind of your thing? Nice.” For some reason, Louis has trouble maintaining eye contact with him while he’s smiling so fucking big. His cheeks feel much warmer than usual when he stops picking at the grass beside him. He doesn’t know when the hell he became the blusher between the pair of them but he’d like it to stop as soon as possible, please and thank you. “I’m Harry Styles, by the way.”

Louis shakes his hand when it’s offered, giving himself away for a third time when he thoughtlessly answers with ‘ _Yeah, I know’,_ but order is restored to the universe when he sees Harry’s cheeks turn almost as bright as the Marie Henry t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Uh, I just meant we have a class together, so, I know who you are obviously,” Louis quickly explains. “Sorry about that. So... you’re a fan of Walk The Moon as well as Mozart,” Louis says to change the subject to something less awkward. “Heard you playing a little of both earlier.”

“Mmm, try Shostakovich,” Harry smiles. “And, yes, I enjoy playing both. One’s an assignment, the other is just really fun. I’m guessing you don’t listen to a lot of classical though.”

“Really? Damn. What gave me away?”

“You not knowing the difference between Mozart and Shostakovich? Rookie mistake.”

“Never heard of this _Shostklivitiskitil-ich_ guy.” Or whatever the hell Harry just said. “Mozart can be pretty cool though I guess. He’s also the piano guy, right? Or is that Chopin?”

“Uh, I believe you mean the piano _man_ , and I’m pretty certain that’s Billy Joel.”

Louis actually laughs which is something that usually only happens when he’s with his friends, not minding at all when Harry takes a seat next to him with his violin in his lap.  

“I’m Louis by the way. I think I forgot to say that earlier.”

“You did, but it’s alright,” Harry assures him with a shy grin. “I, uh...I kind of know you too. I think everyone here does. It’s kind of hard not to.” 

“Wow. I’m that infamous, huh?” he jokes lamely, absently smoothing over the blades of grass between them.

“Sort of. I also think it’s because you’re just that interesting. The school has never had students like you or your friends before. It’s kind of a big deal.”

So he’s been told every single day since he got in. Suddenly, Louis feels a bit uncomfortable being told how much he doesn’t fit in from yet another person. And right when things were just going so well.

“Right,” Louis says, now pulling up pieces of grass from the earth to avoid seeing the judgement in his gaze. “So…what do _you_ think about that? About us being here?”

“Me? Oh, I think it’s great,” he says brightly, making Louis look up from his grass pile and meet a pair of bright eyes that are just as brilliantly green. “I’ve actually been really looking forward to meeting you.” Louis’ not so sure Harry meant to admit that out loud. He certainly blushes deeper than ever before with small traces of it still visible across his nose and the tips of his ears long after it fades, but Louis is kind of glad for the slip up. He feels almost flattered by it. “I- I just meant that every musician I’ve ever known have all been the exact same, you know? Obviously, your style of music is really different from what the school is traditionally known for, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Differences scare people sometimes but they shouldn’t, and I think we can all learn from each other. Just like the chancellor said.”

And here Louis thought not a soul besides himself was even listening to the chancellor’s speech.

“So, you don’t think I’m damaging the school’s reputation by being here or lowering its standards or whatever?” The majority of the people at Marie Henry certainly do.

“Not at all,” Harry shakes his head. “This is a really good music school. It’s been around forever and it’s one of the best in the country. I think all people should be able to apply no matter what sort of music they love. Or create on their computers,” he says, smirking at Louis’ MacBook. “I’m still not quite sure how all that works,” he admits. “It’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you so bad.”

With views like that, it’s now easy to see why Harry doesn’t seem very close with the group of very close-minded friends he’s made here. They don’t even think Louis is fit to set foot on the campus grounds. Besides the day he met Niall, this is the most welcome Louis has felt.

And did he just say _one_ of the reasons? He’s left wondering what on Earth the others might be when Harry grins before standing up with his violin in hand.

“Where are you going? Back to playing _Shut up and Dance_ I hope.”

“I wish. Unfortunately, I’ve got to get to class.”

Louis leans his head back against the wall with a pitiful groan because so does he.

“Are you playing that _Shostklivitiskitil-ich_ piece?”

“Yep. It’s time to… face the music,” he says with a dramatic look down at his violin that only lasts a second before they both snort.

They’re both still laughing when Louis wishes the idiot good luck before packing up his things to head to sound engineering and production with Niall.

*

“Hey, Zayn? Are you gonna eat that cupcake? It was the last one.”

Zayn briefly looks up from the textbook he’s reading to find Niall blinking at him expectantly. “No, I’m not,” he answers kindly.

“Oh. Great,” Niall grins. “Then can I have it?” He’s already reaching across the table for it when Zayn stops reading his book completely to move the cupcake out of his reach.

“No, you can’t.”

“ _What?_ Why not? You said yourself you didn’t want it. What’s the point of hogging it?”

“ _Because,_ I got it for Bebe. She loves these, and like you said it was the last one.”

Louis bites at his lip to keep from grinning when the very person Zayn and Niall were just talking about saunters over with a folder full of sheet music in one hand and a plate of food in the other.

“I can never get out of vocal rehearsal fast enough on Fridays to get a cupcake,” she complains as she takes the free seat next to Zayn that both Niall and Louis received hard looks for trying to sit in when they first arrived.  

Bebe gasps when a tattooed hand places a double chocolate cupcake in front of her.

“For you,” Zayn says, his face lighting up like Christmas morning when Bebe squeals and thanks him with the tightest hug Louis has ever seen complete with an obnoxiously loud kiss to the side of his face as Niall rolls his eyes.

“Oh, Z, you’re just so sweet,” she coos. “You shouldn’t have.”

Zayn isn’t usually one for being shy, but not even the textbook he goes back to reading once she lets him go can hide the color in his cheeks.

Louis stops smirking at his friends long enough to glance around the room, noticing Bebe’s declaration of fondness for Zayn has drawn the attention of a few people. One of which happens to be Harry who offers him a nod and small quirk of his lips. They do that now whenever they see each other. Give one another little signs of acknowledgement from afar that Louis has come to appreciate. Just like the grins they exchange during class whenever Harry peeks at the back row to see if he’s there. Kind of like the one Harry’s wearing now as he pushes away from his table of friends and crosses the dining hall to their horror.

“Um, guys? Bebe whispers. “Who’s that coming over h- er- hello!” Bebe says when Harry arrives at their table before she can finish her question.

“Hello,” Harry greets her before turning his grin on Louis. “Hey, Lou.”

“Hi there,” Louis says carefully, feeling every one of his friends staring right at them.

“How are you? How’s your lunch?”

They’re such a basic questions, and yet Louis is so unsure of how to react to them in front of so many people. “I’m alright. Lunch is good. Er- Are _you_ alright? Would you like to sit down?” They can always pull up an extra chair.

“Thank you, but that’s okay. I’m heading off to rehearse in a bit, but I just wanted to ask if you guys have plans tonight. There’s this party some people are going to. I didn’t know if you’d be interested or if you’d heard about it. It’d be great if you could come. All of you,” Harry grins at each person blinking up at him like he must be lost.

“Er-” Louis glances at his friends for help and finds none as they look between him and Harry with fascination. “Er- no?”

“Oh,” Harry nods, frowning only a beat later. “Wait. No, you’re not interested, or no, you hadn’t heard about it?”

“We hadn’t heard about it, but we’d love to stop by. Right?” Zayn says for him, making Louis hiss when he kicks at him under the table and widens his eyes at the phone lying next to Louis’ plate.

“Er- Y-Yeah. Sure. Just text us,” Louis agrees as he hands his phone to Harry and watches him add himself as a contact. Harry’s phone vibrates with a new message once he’s all done and then he takes a moment to save Louis’ number too.

“There you go.” Harry hands him back his phone with a smile. “I’ll let you know the address and all that in a bit, but hope to see you there?”

Louis nods in answer, watching as Harry turns to head back to his own table like he didn’t just silence the whole dining hall by talking to them. He glances down at his phone once Harry is safely back with his friends, biting down on a grin when he sees the message Harry with a violin emoji just sent him.

_‘By allowing me to have your number you’ve unknowingly agreed to receive unlimited late-night memes, jokes, puns, and hilarious cat videos. You’re welcome in advance. - H’_

“So... guys, are we actually going to this thing?” Niall asks. Louis glances up from his phone to him and Bebe waiting for an answer and Zayn smirking at him like the annoying, knowing little shit that he is.

“Oh, yeah,” he snorts into his book. “We’re definitely going,” he decides for them all.

*

It’s just after ten when Louis stops working on his music theory assignment to get dressed and meet everyone outside the dorms. He needs to finish it at some point tonight so he’s only going for a little while. Harry went out of his way to invite them all somewhere when no one else has even attempted to do the same. Louis is actually looking forward to it if he’s honest. Besides the big farewell dinner his family threw for him before leaving for Marie Henry, Louis hasn’t been to a party in forever.

He chooses a loose black tank he used to wear on nights out with his mates from school as well as his dark jeans that have a few small tears along the knees. He keeps the sides of his hair short these days, but he carefully runs his fingers through the longer pieces on top so that his fringe lays nicely. He could probably do for a shave, but he quite likes the scruff so he leaves it.

Everybody is waiting for him outside the dorms when he gets downstairs; Niall in a simple grey t-shirt, Bebe in a pink dress and an impressive pair of heels that hurt even Louis’ feet to look at, and Zayn in a Marvel superhero shirt, a leather jacket, and pair of graffiti print Converses that Louis would love to borrow at some point in the future.

“Took you long enough,” Zayn smirks when Louis makes it over to them.

“Sorry. I was still working on my theory analysis,” Louis explains, making all three of his friends roll their eyes.

“ _Gross_. On Friday night?” Niall grimaces at the same time Zayn says, “Jesus. Be more of a nerd.”

Bebe, Louis’ one and only true friend in this world giggles as a result of their teasing but also pulls Louis into a proud embrace. “Aw, I was studying earlier too, Lou. They’re just jealous of our extreme dedication.”

Louis’ Friday night studying session was less about dedication and more about music theory kicking his arse, but he doesn’t say so, too busy having fun watching Zayn fume because Bebe’s not hugging _him_.

The address Harry gave them a few hours ago isn’t too far away. It’s within walking distance which will be good for when Louis leaves early to go back to being a nerd. The white brick house they arrive at looks just like all the others along the residential street except for all the people hanging around the outside of it and the muffled bass of a David Guetta song thumping away inside. One that Louis happens to be quite fond of.

“Wow. The music’s actually decent,” Bebe says frowning up at the house like maybe they’ve got the wrong one. “I mean, I didn’t want to _presume_ or anything, but I was definitely expecting something a little more…”

“Beethoven or Bach?” Zayn snorts. “Same.” Louis hadn’t said anything but he was also a bit skeptical. Niall thinks their reaction is hilarious, even though a few weeks ago they would’ve lumped him in with all the other die-hard classics lovers.

“Oh, come on, guys. They love non-classical stuff too just like we do,” Niall assures them. Louis guesses that’s true to an extent. They think all that non-classical stuff has no place at their precious conservatory, but at least they’re not complete lost causes.

“Well, you used to be one of them. Why don’t you go in first,” Bebe says sweetly, giving Niall a playful nudge in the direction of the front steps.

“Used to be?” Niall frowns.

“Yeah, we adopted you,” Louis teases, also nudging him in the arm. “You’re part of the dark side now, mate. Didn’t anybody tell you?”

“We’ve got to get you a commemorative leather jacket. Or at least a cool tattoo,” Zayn says, laughing when Niall goes a bit pale at the mention of needle-related things.

Louis’ phone vibrates with a new message in the middle of their very serious conversation. He grins when he sees it’s from Harry. _‘Hey, you guys still coming?’_

“Niall’s already cool all on his own. That’s why we kept him,” he says putting an end to the hilarious tattoo discussion that has him looking as white as a sheet. “And also, I’ll go in first,” he volunteers.

It’s only fair since Harry is technically _his_ friend and invited them all. Though Louis still doesn’t quite understand why.

Their group being stared at is a given in almost any situation, but Louis figures walking into this party can’t be any different from walking into class or the dining hall. It’s a lot different Louis realizes the moment they step over the threshold and heads turn in their direction but no one scowls or immediately orders them out. People still stare and whisper of course. They always do, but it seems not nearly as many people give a shit that they’ve shown up at this party as Louis would’ve thought. Perhaps everyone is finally coming around and beginning to be more accepting of them. Or, it could be the heavy scent of beer and liquor permeating the air that they have to thank for such tolerance. Either way, Louis’ not going to complain.

“Louis! You made it!” someone shouts from a crowded doorway that must lead to the kitchen based on all the people coming out of it with fresh drinks, Harry included. Louis gives him a small wave to downplay the enthusiastic greeting, his hand almost getting caught between their two chests when Harry hurries over and wraps him in a crushing hug, before doing the same to Niall, Bebe, and Zayn. “ _Finally_ ,” he says, smiling so big that two dimples appear at the center of each of his cheeks when he doubles back around to squeeze Louis again. “I was worried you all wouldn’t show up.”

Louis laughs as he smooths the front his shirt, catching faint traces of Harry’s cologne now clinging to it. Whatever it is, it smells amazing so it’s not like he minds.

“Of course we showed up. We promised we wou- Oh. Uh… thanks?” Louis blinking down at the bright blue drink Harry was just holding which apparently now belongs to Louis.

“Yeah, mate. Thanks a lot for inviting us,” Zayn gently claps him on the shoulder. “We’re going to go get some drinks. We’ll find you in a bit.”

“Oh,” Louis says, giving Harry an apologetic look as well as his cup back. “Then I guess I should probably-”

“Oh, no. Not you,” Zayn smirks, stopping Louis from following them with one hand to his chest. “ _We’re_ getting drinks. _You’ve_ already got one so you’re staying right here.”

It’s not even his drink. And, he’s not even drinking tonight. He has his assignment to finish. Louis resents being told where to stay while his friends skip off to the kitchen without him but Harry looks thrilled with that plan.

“Ooh! My roommate Liam was just in there making us drinks. You should say hi,” Harry encourages them. “He’s wearing a blue shirt and he plays violin too, and he looks _really_ serious at first, but I promise he’s really, really nice!”  

“Will do!” Bebe shouts back at him. Louis stares after his friends, resisting the urge to flip each of them the middle finger when they all smirk at him from the kitchen door before stepping inside.

“Aww, don’t worry, Lou. There’s plenty of drinks left and I can always introduce you to Liam later,” Harry kindly offers with his green eyes looking just a tad bit glossier than usual. Harry’s cheeks have always had a tendency to flush but the rosy tint to them tonight seems to be more alcohol related than anything else. Either way, he’s still unfairly pretty. Even as he’s handing off his mixed drink to Louis for a second time.

“Harry, love?” Louis chuckles at the way he’s still smiling at Louis like his arrival at this party is the best thing on the planet. “Are you drunk?”

“No. Er- Well, a little. I had to entertain myself somehow until you showed up,” he admits. “I’m just so glad you’re here now.”

Louis hadn’t realized him coming to this thing tonight was so important to Harry. He had figured the invite was mostly extended out of kindness, but clearly not. Harry must consider them to be real friends, which makes Louis even more happy with his decision to come here.

“I’m glad I’m here too. Thanks, Harry,” he grins. “And also, thank you very much for my giant cup of pure vodka but unfortunately, I don’t think I’m drinking tonight. I just wanted to stop by for a while and say hello, so.” He returns the drink to its rightful owner who just blinks down at it regretfully.

“Oh. You can’t stay,” he says, disappointment clear in his voice once Louis’ words sink in. “Well, that’s okay, Louis. At least we got to hang out for a little while. That’s all I really wanted anyway.”

Harry tries to grin afterwards but it comes off more sad than accepting. And for some reason, seeing him look that way after just being so happy almost makes Louis want to rip out his own heart and give it to the boy. He might as well stomp on it while he’s at it too.

“Well, I mean- I guess I don’t have to leave _right_ this second,” Louis reasons, watching Harry’s mood perk right back up. “I mean, I’ve still got loads of work I need to catch up on back at campus, but, I don’t see why I can’t hang around here a while. Just a few minutes of fun can’t hurt, right?”

Harry’s bright, dimply smile is back in place as he hands Louis his drink for a final time. “Right!”

\--------------------

It’s nearly two hours later when Louis rolls over on the bed he’s lying on to dig his phone out of his pocket and just ends up groaning instead when his drunken vision clears enough to read the time.

“ _Fuuuuck_ ,” he complains making the drunken lump lying across the foot of the bed giggle so hard he’s shaking the bed. “Don’t laugh! It makes me dizzy _and_ this is all your fault.” Louis tries to kick him, missing Harry’s body completely and only making him laugh more.

“What? How’s it _my_ fault?”

Louis sits up with much effort, narrowing his eyes at the person who begged to be his partner during the last round of Name That Note and then fucking _lost._ A game they should’ve dominated by default considering the musical genius Harry is, but no.

“You guessed P Minor. _P_ ,” Louis deadpans. “That’s not even a real note! Even _I_ know that!”

“To be fair, I meant _B_ ,” Harry snorts. “It just didn’t come out that way.”

No shit. They each had to down two double shots after that fiasco and that was after the two regular shots they had to drink because of Louis. Though, really, what more could really be expected of him when he can barely keep his head above water in their music theory class to begin with.

Louis flops back down against the pillows, pouting up at the ceiling. He still doesn’t even know whose room this is. Or whose party for that matter.

“I really needed to work on my analysis tonight,” he sighs. “And, I really need to pee.”

“A lot, or just minor?” Harry asks seriously, making them both cackle so hard they can’t even breathe. “But wait. Analys- Analysisis-is for what? _Theory_?” Harry frowns. “I thought that was assigned ages ago.”

It was. It’s just been giving him so much trouble that it has taken him this long to finish it.

“ _It’s so fucking hard_ ,” Louis whines, spluttering a fresh laugh at his accidental phrasing when Harry does. They both stop giggling like ten-year-olds long enough for Harry to sit up wearing a much more serious expression, and for Louis to remember that what was so funny to begin with really isn’t so funny at all. “It’s just- In the beginning it wasn’t so bad because I could pretty much follow everything we talked about, but I do everything by ear so I’ve never really had to read music before let alone bloody analyze it and now the class just keeps getting harder and I keep falling more and more behind and I still really, _really_ have to pee.”

“Louis, why didn’t you say something before?”

“I did. I told you I had to pee forever ago.”

“No, not that. I mean, why didn’t you tell me you were struggling in theory?” Because he’s embarrassed that no one else is. Not even Zayn or Bebe is having as much trouble as him. “Lou, I can help you if you need me to. I _want_ to. I don’t mind.”

Help sounds so amazing right now. So does a nice toilet. Also, maybe a pizza, but obviously not all at once.  

“Alright, let’s go,” Harry chirps out of nowhere. “Up you get.”

He pokes Louis in the side a few times making him chuckle until the pressure reminds him of his full bladder so Louis pokes him back.

“Where are you going?” Louis whines when Harry jostles the bed by hopping off it.

“We’re going back. I’m gonna help you with your analy- alynal- er…assignment,” he decides on instead of slurring through the word for a second time tonight.

Louis is flattered by his willingness to help him not fail out of Marie Henry but also can’t help but find his confidence amusing. “No offense, but you’re so drunk right now you can’t even spell analysis.”

Harry stops tying up his boots to look at Louis with narrowed eyes like he’s willing to take on that bet and just ends up grinning like an idiot instead. “That is a very true statement, but I’ll have you know I can’t even spell that word while sober.” Harry’s inability to spell or use basic phonics is just one of many of his quirky charms. “I’ll also have you know that I’ve been playing violin and reading music since I was _four_ which makes me the official music theory _king_ ,” he says proudly, throwing his head back to cackle when Louis stands to curtesy right before falling flat on his arse. 

The walk back doesn’t take much longer than the walk to the party did even with the multiple stops they make for Harry to chat to every person they pass because apparently he knows everybody, and also for Louis to finally pee because that’s also important.

When they get to Louis’ dorm they’re nowhere near as quiet as they should be given the hour. A few people raise an eyebrow at them stumbling in together, but don’t say anything as they return to their rooms. Louis would love to get into his room too. If he could unlock the bloody door.

“Mmm… not _quite_ sure that’s the way you do it.”

Louis glances over at the smug grin aimed his way as Harry leans against the wall watching him fumble with his key. This job is much more difficult than usual for him. One, because Louis’ still mostly off his face, and two, because the pair of brilliantly green eyes focused on him are just as distracting as they are playful.

“It’s easy to talk when you’re just standing there, you know,” Louis points out.

“ _Heeey_ ,” he frowns in offense. “I’m helping. I’m the moral support,” he claims just as Louis’ door clicks unlocked, smiling big as if he unlocked the thing himself. “See. Told you I’m supportive.”

“ _Annoying_ more like, but sure. Let’s go with that,” Louis grins as pushes open the door. “After you. Welcome.”

Harry steps inside, not going much further than that as he looks around.

“No roommate.” It’s not really a question with the extra bed and other furniture in the room.

“Er- Yeah, I had one in the beginning… for about an hour.” He honestly doesn’t even think it took that long for his roommate to leave once he realized who he was paired with. Louis can’t even remember his name. “Anyway, I think it all worked out for the best. All my equipment wouldn’t have fit in here otherwise,” he chuckles with a look at his keyboard, _two_ soundboard consoles, and giant speakers taking up space on both sides of the room. “So, yeah. It’s just me in here, but that’s okay. It’s kind of nice.”

When he looks at Harry he’s met with a grin much like the one he wore earlier in the evening when thought Louis couldn’t stay. It’s kind and sweet like always, but also a little sad in a way.

“I’m sorry your roommate ran out on you, Louis. He didn’t realize what he was missing.”

“I am pretty amazing,” Louis agrees making them both laugh a bit. “No, but seriously. It’s alright. Like I said, it worked out for the best. Now, I have all this space to myself, I get to play my music as loud as I want, and stay up late mixing without bothering anybody since most people here practice all night anyway.” He couldn’t even do those things at home. Not without running the risk of waking up half the block anyway.

Harry steps further into the room to check out all of Louis’ things starting with the posters he finally took the time to hang a few weeks ago.

“David Guetta, Green Day, Diplo, _Rihanna_ ,” Harry lists off, clearly a fan of the last one based on his smile. “Who’s this?”

“That, my friend, is the great Steve Aoki. One of my all-time favorites.”

It’s clearly an artist Harry isn’t familiar with but he hums and nods with interest. “So, these are all artists you admire. You want to make music like them.”

If only.

“There’s statues of famous composers all over campus because to everybody here, they’re heroes, right? Well, these people are mine,” Louis says smiling proudly at his walls.

Harry continues politely exploring. It’s not until a few minutes pass that Louis remembers they actually came here for a reason tonight, but Harry’s already fascinated by something new. He goes straight over to the desk where all of Louis’ coursework is spread out, leaning in to see all the pictures of his family he brought from home taped above it.

“More heroes of yours?” Harry asks knowingly.

“Pretty much,” he smiles. “That’s my little brother,” he points at the boy wearing a toothy grin in a photo from last summer. “He’s much bigger than that now. He actually kind of looks like me when I was that small. Oh, and these beauties are my little sisters.”

“All _five_ of them?” Harry asks with comically wide eyes. “It’s just me and my sister Gemma.”

“Yeah, I know. There’s seven of us total,” Louis laughs. “My mum always said there was never a dull moment in our house.” His eyes fall to the picture of her when Harry leans in to see it better. “That’s her with my stepdad, but she’s gone now, so.”

Saying it still stings, but not quite as much as it used to thanks to time and realizing she’s always with him regardless. The happy light in Harry’s eyes dims a bit after hearing that. Louis can feel another apology coming, but stops him before he can give it. “It’s alright,” Louis assures him. _“_ She’s not here, but I know she’s really proud of me all the same.” All she ever wanted was for him to pursue his dreams. She’d be thrilled knowing he ended up in an amazing place like this that allows him to do so.

Things feel heavier in the silence that follows so Louis lightens the mood with a hip check to Harry’s left side. “So, _your highness_. You’re the music theory king,” Louis reminds him, gesturing to the textbook lying open in front of them. “Are you gonna help me make sense of all this stuff or what?”

The corners of Harry’s lips pull up when he nudges Louis back. “Of course. I said I would…” he answers, his attention now on the stack of writing journals Louis always keeps close by and his soundboard off to the side. He seems just as fascinated by all the equipment surrounding them as the posters and photos.

“I can show you how all this stuff works first if you’d like. It’s really not as complicated as it looks.”

“Wait. Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Louis chuckles when Harry’s eyes widen in excitement. “We can start with a simple beat and build a melody to go around it. Add in some cool sound effects even. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

The only other people Louis has ever seen look this eager to play around with a bunch of buttons and software are his siblings whenever Louis lets them have fun using it all.

*

Louis regrets every drop of alcohol he consumed the night before when he opens his eyes and immediately shuts them again against the sunshine pouring in through his window. He reaches out for his other pillow to block the out the light, only realizing after a few seconds of pulling at it in vain that there’s another person’s head on it weighing it down. He braves the agony of sunshine, sitting up and squinting down to find Harry fast asleep beside him.

Details from the night before are murky at best with how much they drank, but Louis distinctly remembers the need to finish his music theory assignment and Harry all but vowing to help him. The book is lying open across Harry’s left hip on the same page Louis was working on before he left for the party so clearly not a lot of music theory went on last night. A quick inventory of the state of their hair, clothing, and the bed sheets reveals that nothing else happened either. They never even took off their shoes.

He breathes a sigh of relief, glad to not have to deal with the awkwardness of a morning after. They were both drunk last night and sleeping together wouldn’t make anything about their already unlikely friendship any easier. However, there’s still a small part of Louis that likes the feeling of being cramped in a double twin bed with him, and also, seeing his face first thing. He tries to erase that thought the moment he has it thought, gently shaking his friend awake.

“Harry?”

“He’s not here. Leave a message,” the mess of curls lying on top of Louis’ pillow mumbles just before he catches a glimpse of a dumb grin being pressed into it. Louis fondly rolls his eyes at him, giving his calf a shove with the toe of his shoe.

Harry lets out a miserable groan when he finally opens his eyes, the green of them disappearing when he quickly squeezes them shut again. “God, I’m never drinking again,” he moans.

“Been there, said that,” Louis snorts. And just like him, eventually Harry’s eyes adjust to the light and he dares to sit up. He tries to be discreet as he looks around to try and piece the night together, sighing when he picks up the music theory book resting on his lap.

“Damn. Your assignment.”

He flips through the half dozen remaining pages of the reading their professor assigned which might as well be Greek to Louis. Their master plan of getting Louis to understand it didn’t exactly pan out, but they did get through at least one page together. Louis’ impressed they made it that far after spending over an hour mixing trash songs that he can’t wait to play back here in the light of day and without all the vodka they drank convincing them they’re the EDM/ house music champions. Louis can’t remember the last time he had so much fun doing absolutely nothing.

“We should finish it,” Harry suggests after a beat. “We can go to the library, do these few pages, and then we can go start from the beginning and work through anything you might have missed up till now. I don’t have any plans, so I’m free all day,” he shrugs. “For as long as you need me.”

Louis’ memory of last night isn’t perfect, but that sincerity and warmth behind his smile is every bit as vivid as each fleck of gold in his eyes.

“Well, if we’re going to spend the whole day studying we at least need to eat first,” Louis grins. “And I mean the greasy stuff. I want _bacon_. We better hurry though. I’m sure the others are already on their way if they’re as hungover as we are, and bacon does not last very long with Niall Horan around.”

Giving up a Saturday to help him out with something most people here could probably do in their sleep is a beyond generous offer. One that Louis’ not sure how he’s going to pay back, but Saturday morning brunch at the dining hall seems like a good place to start.

“Alright,” Harry laughs. “Deal. I’ll text Li.”

*

When their Saturday brunch group decided to pack up and join the two of them for a Saturday study session at the library instead, Louis had assumed their desire to stick together was just the result of a fun night out that none of them really wanted to end, and oddly enough, it didn’t. Not that night for dinner at the taco shop they tried that everybody on campus swears by, or even afterward when they all decided to go see the new movie playing at the student center.

Ever since that party the six of them have become such great friends that Louis is pretty sure they spend as much time together than apart. They still get looks wherever they go for being outsiders, but that doesn’t stop Niall, Liam, or Harry from hanging out with them. The delinquents are growing and Louis honestly couldn’t be more thrilled.

It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon when Louis peeks up from his new history of music essay to find Harry already grinning at him where he’s stretched out in the grass of their secret study/rehearsal spot…where clearly not much studying or rehearsal is going on. Harry’s violin has been lying in the grass for the past fifteen minutes getting a sunbath of its own while Harry picks blossoms for the flower crown he’s making.

“Yes? May I help you?” Louis grins back at him, pretending like he hasn’t been totally distracted admiring the shades of sun-kissed auburn mixed in with his chocolate curls or the shape of Harry’s biceps where his shirt sleeves have been rolled up to get some sun on them too.

“How’s your essay coming along?”

Louis snorts a laugh at the measly six sentences he has so far for his new history of music assignment: _Defend your preferred style of music to someone who may be critical of that style._ That’s literally all Louis does. He should just film himself walking through campus one day and submit _that_ as his essay.

“Er- Well, I’ve only just started it, but defending myself and my style is kind of my thing now,” Louis jokes. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Harry nods then stops picking the remaining blooms from summer to playfully narrow his eyes at him. “Tell me what made you decide to come here, Lou. To a place like this that’s so _not_ your style. I only ask because I know _I’ve_ wanted to come here for as long as I can remember. Like most people here, this place has been my dream ever since I started playing and realized I wanted to make a career out of it, but I think with you it’s a bit different?”

His story is a lot different actually. Louis didn’t start playing violin at the age of four or any other instrument for that matter. He didn’t even know Marie Henry existed until he was told about it half a year ago and he decided to give it a shot.

“Well, I took a gap year. Or _two,_ ” Louis corrects himself. “My mother was really sick so I decided to stick around, but that was okay because it’s not like I had any idea of what I wanted to study anyway. After she died I still wasn’t sure what to study at uni or if I was even going to go at all so I kind of just did my own thing for a while. Making music and writing was always important to me so I did that. I got into a bit of DJing at parties and small clubs that would let me. Even did a rave once with some mates. _That_ was something.”

Louis can tell Harry is impressed by the way his jaw drops when he sits up completely. “No way,” he grins. “You were a real DJ?”

“I was,” Louis laughs. “For a little while anyway. Until my old music teacher from school contacted me out of the blue. When she called I just kept thinking I was in big trouble for something even though I hadn’t seen her for nearly two years.”

“Flashbacks from being a model student?” Harry snorts.

“ _Hardly_. Anyway, she told me about the change in admissions for some music conservatory I’d never heard of, wrote me the best recommendation I’ve ever seen even after being a complete menace in her class, and encouraged me to apply. So, I did. Not thinking I’d actually get in, and now…”

“Here you are,” Harry says proudly. “Making history.”

“Thanks, H,” Louis says, unable to contain the dumb grin Harry just pulled out of him. “Though I think you and the chancellor may be the only ones here who see that as a good thing. Some people have been working their whole lives to get into this school, so I get why they think I don’t deserve it.”

“Well, they’re wrong. Every one of them,” Harry says confidently. “Those reasons are exactly why you _do_ deserve it. All three of you. Yeah, most musicians here have had years and years of instruction and training, but Zayn just picked up a guitar one day and was brilliant at it. And Bebe is an amazing singer all on her own without having had a single lesson. What the rest of us do here is great too, but it’s nowhere near as special as that.”

Louis can hardly believe that Harry of all people thinks his talent is nothing special when his playing is so captivating and perfect that the other violin students spend the majority of their time practicing to be even half as good because Harry’s the man to beat.  

“Haz, you are an _incredible_ musician. You make people feel things and you always look so happy while you do it.” It’s the most special thing Louis has ever witnessed, and yet Harry smiles and waves it off like it’s nothing.

“All classical training is, is people playing instruments that have been around for ages and trying their best to imitate all the greats who came before, whereas you take an idea and create something completely new every day that’s all your own. _That’s_ incredible, Lou. That’s what’s special,” he grins with a slight blush on his cheeks that Louis hasn’t seen in a while. “You’re like, the single coolest person I’ve ever met.”

Louis could say the same thing if he could meet the boy’s gaze without his cheeks searing red from the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about his music or him.

“Eh. I mean, I guess you’re alright,” Louis shrugs, cackling aloud when he suddenly gets a face full of flower crown and grass for being a prick.

Louis is still picking petals and tiny pieces of the earth off his shirt and out of his hair at dinner that night making Harry laugh every time a rogue blade of grass falls onto the table. Louis can’t even find the idiot annoying because he’s just so fucking cute being ridiculous.

“Oh, shit. I’ve got to go,” he says after a peek at the time. He quickly finishes the last corner of his burger before standing up, making everybody turn to eye him with curiosity.

“Where you off to?” Niall asks.

“I booked a rehearsal room. I forgot I’ve got this piece I really need to work on.”

Liam frowns at him next, his eyebrows furrowing together as Harry gathers all his things. “I thought that’s what you did earlier. You were gone for over an hour.”

“Er-” Harry cuts his eyes over at Louis and the evidence of them doing absolutely nothing this afternoon still stuck to his hair. His dimples pop when he bites down on a grin that doesn’t look as guilty as it probably should considering he got very little practice in this afternoon and Louis gave up any hope of productivity almost immediately. “Um, yeah… not so much.”

Louis can feel everyone look to him for further explanation but he gives none, his grin just as guiltless as Harry’s. 

“Well, I’ve gotta get going. See you guys!” Harry tells the group before taking off, only making it a few steps away before turning face them again. “Oh, Lou? Text me later if you still want to go over music theory together?”

“Of course, Haz. Sure thing,” Louis promises.

“I hope his rehearsal goes well,” Liam says once he’s gone. “That piece we were assigned is brutal and we’re playing it tomorrow.”

From what Louis heard this afternoon it’s already sounding amazing.

“I’m sure he’ll do just fine. He always does,” Louis smiles, watching him hurry out of the dining hall with his backpack slung over one shoulder and his violin strapped to the other. He stumbles over his own feet when he tries to look back and wave at him which should look completely tragic and yet somehow Louis is endeared. When he looks up, all of his friends are watching him with these annoying, shit-eating grins that instantly makes Louis want to give them each a slap. “What?”

Niall just shakes his head forlornly with a dramatic sigh. “Jesus, guys, it’s worse than we thought.”

“ _What_?” Louis demands only for everyone to laugh.

“You’re both adorable that’s what,” Bebe answers him.

“Oh, please,” Louis rolls his eyes and swats at Bebe’s hands so she’ll stop pinching his cheeks. “There’s nothing _adorable_ between us. We’re just friends.”

Zayn snorts as if Louis just gave the punchline to a joke but he goes quiet when Louis just blinks at him. “You _are_ joking, right? He’s joking, right?”

Louis feels put on the spot when all four of his friends stare at him in anticipation of a yes. “Um…no?” It feels like the wrong answer based on the astounded looks everyone exchanges over his head.

“Holy shit. He doesn’t know,” Zayn gasps with mirth dancing in his eyes and it makes Louis feel lost because he doesn’t even know what it is he supposedly doesn’t know.

“What don’t I know?” he whines.

“That you and Haz are totally in love with each other,” Niall says matter-of-factly before sinking his teeth into a chicken sandwich. “It’s cute sometimes. Gross for all the others.”

And now Louis is certain they’ve all lost it. “You’re all insane,” he laughs. “Harry is so not into me.”

“Seriously?” Zayn deadpans. “You’ve _never_ seen the face? Oh my God. Bebes, quick. Show him the face.” She looks beyond thrilled to comply as she rests her chin in her hand, gives a wistful sigh, and then stares at Zayn’s face like it’s made of pure sunshine while Zayn stares back. The whole table bursts out laughing from them holding each other’s gazes like that for so long. Louis rolls his eyes at them, wanting nothing more than to mention the reason they’re both so convincing at giving each other ‘the face’ is _months_ of fucking practice. But, he’ll save that little tidbit of information for another day when he isn’t trying to actively recall any signs he might’ve missed that Harry actually likes him back.

It’s like a disease, that conversation. And no matter what Louis does that night, it eats at him. He thinks about it during the walk back to the dorms and afterwards in the shower to finally wash the grass out of his hair. His mind is stuck on dinner, even right now as he’s sat against his headboard studying with the very person he’s obsessing over sitting right next to him like there isn’t a whole extra set of furniture in the room for him to use. It’s that and other little things like the warm embrace he received the moment Harry arrived here and the way he subtly sniffed Louis’ freshly washed hair before letting go that makes Louis wonder if he really has been as blind as everyone claims. He thinks maybe he has been when Harry peeks over at him for the hundredth time since he arrived, giving up all pretenses of working on his own history of music essay.

“Need any more help?”

He doesn’t, but Harry sounds almost hopeful that he might. His kind offer makes Louis smile regardless, unable to hide it when they’re sitting this close to one another.

“Your services are not required at this time, but thank you for your dutiful concern as always,” he teases.

Music theory still doesn’t come any easier to Louis. Being distracted as fuck by his private tutor has a lot to do with that, but the course is a lot less intimidating now knowing he has a friend like Harry in his corner who’s so willing to help him. Or possibly, something a bit more than a friend he thinks when Louis playfully knocks their shoulders together and a faint blush creeps up on Harry’s cheeks before nudging him back.

That happens a lot whenever they’re together. Louis always figured it was due to him taking the piss all the time kind of like he just did, however, there have been other times when Louis hasn’t done anything at all except smile at him a beat too long or accidentally brush up against him, rendering Harry a beet-red, bumbling mess. Louis often has a similar reaction whenever he’s on the receiving end of attention like that, so he isn’t _totally_ oblivious to the effect they have on one another. They flirt, sure, but he assumed it to all be harmless. He certainly never took it as a sign of Harry’s undying love for him like the rest of their friends obviously have. Not when somebody as amazing as Harry can take his pick from the multiple people at Marie Henry who are interested in him. Louis is interested too of course. He’s pretty much been a goner since day one. He just never thought he stood a chance considering the looks the two of them get now just daring to be friends.

“Oh- Excuse me,” Louis apologizes, testing the waters by reaching directly across Harry for the highlighter lying on his desk. It’s a quick move he’s made at least a dozen times since knowing Harry, but this is the first time he’s ever done it and noticed the way his breath catches from his proximity. Kind of like it did earlier when Louis crawled over his legs to get off the bed and before that when all Louis did was say his name. “Sorry. I keep missing all these minor thirds.”

Which isn’t a lie.

“It’s alright.” He clears his throat once Louis settles back down beside him, looking less tense now that he’s breathing again and Louis isn’t half in his lap. “Um, I can help. Let’s see,” he offers, leaning in and making Louis’ stomach all quivery when he eases the highlighter out of his grasp. “You see here you’re only moving from C to D. That’s only _two_ half-steps so it’s a major _2nd_. But here you’re moving from C to an E flat. That’s three half-steps, so it’s a minor 3rd,” he explains with a smile. “See?”

Louis blinks away from Harry’s mouth and the sharp cut of his jawline when it stills, quite certain he didn’t hear a single word of what he just said.

“Uh… Mhmm. Got it. Makes perfect sense,” he lies, thankful when Harry takes his pen next and scribbles his explanation in the margin of his book for future reference. “Thanks. Er- Again.”

He’s been subtly torturing Harry all night so Louis more than deserves this taste of his own medicine but the scent of flowers and sunshine still rolling off him from earlier isn’t making it any easier on him. Neither does the warmth of his skin when he tucks the highlighter back into his hand.

“Sure, Lou,” he whispers. “Don’t mention it.”

The grin Louis tries to offer him falls short when he notices the rosy shade of the pair of lips before him and the path Harry’s tongue takes to wet them. Harry’s grins back, his eyes briefly falling to Louis’ mouth as well turning those slight quivers in Louis’ stomach to full blown butterflies. There hasn’t been a single time in Louis’ life where he has wanted to kiss someone more than he does right now, but then Harry is meeting his gaze again and unfortunately no longer crowding his space as he returns to his essay making Louis wonder if he imagined the whole thing.

Having to lean back against his headboard is kind of like being doused with cold water when Louis resumes music theory with a disappointed sigh.

“So. The weekend’s coming up,” Louis mutters in as casual of a tone as he can manage in the after effects of reeling so bloody hard. “Have any big plans?”

Harry’s face comically screws up at such a random question. “Mmm. Pretty sure it’s the same non-plans as always. Except for that orchestral Mass I told you about that Li and I are going start playing on Sundays of course. Other than that, I figured I’d just hang out and annoy you as usual,” he chuckles. “What about you? Do you have plans?”

“Not really,” Louis shrugs when Harry looks to him for an answer. “My weekend sounds about the same as yours.” He even plans to brave civilization before noon and attend church for the first time in years just to hear Harry play. “I’ll be there on Sunday. Everyone else says they’re coming too.”

“Yeah? That’s perfect. Sounds like it’s a date.”

If only.

It’s barely even nine o’clock when Bebe meets him outside of St. Peter’s on Sunday morning. He looks behind her for Niall and Zayn, not at all surprised to find them missing. Zayn’s leather jacket looks pretty cozy draped over Bebe’s shoulders though.

“They’re sleeping aren’t they?”

“I can’t officially confirm that they’re flakes, but I banged on both of their doors and heard nothing but snoring on the other side, so.”

“ _Lucky bastards_ ,” Louis grumbles jealously, his body too sleep heavy to avoid the slap across the arm Bebe deals him.

“ _Louis_ ,” she hisses pointing at the giant structure with all the people walking inside as if God himself is peeking out the stained-glass windows. “We’re at church.”

“Technically, we’re on the pavement _outside_ of a church, but okay,” he grins. This time, Bebe is quick but Louis is quicker managing to jump out of reach to dodge a second slap.

“You’re such a little-”

“Uh-uh,” Louis tuts with a glance over at the church. “We’re at church.” He ducks to avoid any other assault attempts but somehow misses the foot she deliberately sticks out to trip him on their way in.

They take a seat on the right side of the sanctuary a few rows from the front but close enough to see the string quartet, two of its members scanning the crowd in search of familiar faces. Liam spots him and Bebe first and offers a small wave before discreetly tapping Harry’s shoulder to get his attention. His face lights up upon spotting them too, his dimples visible even from across the room with a smile that big. He’s all business dressed in black with his curls tamed and swept back, quirking an eyebrow when he notices two empty spots next to them. Louis presses him palms together and leans his head on the back of his hands with his tongue hanging out as an explanation. The snort Harry didn’t mean to let out is loud enough that even Louis catches it, and suddenly he’s not jealous that he didn’t get to sleep in. Watching Harry fail to keep his composure is totally worth getting up at the arse crack of dawn on a Sunday. Excuse him; _bum_ crack.

Once the quartet starts up, Louis knows he made the right choice in coming here. They play Shubert, and although there’s a whole other violin, a viola, and a cello contributing to the beautiful melody, Louis listens for Harry’s parts the most. There’s a happiness and a peacefulness about the way he plays that makes Louis feel calm just watching him. He sounds just as remarkable as he did the first time Louis ever heard him and he looks just as beautiful too.

They only play for a few minutes, but for Louis it’s the best part of the whole Mass. The sermon near the end doesn’t hold his attention quite as well, but he still listens. It’s about faith and hope today, but also, friendship and love. Mostly, the priest talks about recognizing the latter as the greatest and most important of the four upon which all the others are built, which Louis agrees with whole-heartedly. He can’t help but think of Harry, his own friend, his _best_ friend Louis realizes when the priest recites a passage from something called The Book of Wisdom.

‘ _The faithful friend is a sure refuge; whoever has found one has found a treasure. A friend -- a faithful friend -- is beyond all price. Hold them as priceless. Love them._ ’

He glances over at the silent quartet, feeling his stomach flutter as it has recently taken to doing when he finds Harry already looking back at him. They both grin at one another for a moment before Louis forces himself to turn his focus back to the priest. He still feels a pair of eyes on him though. A pair of knowing, light brown ones accentuated with dark liner and an elegant brow arched up high. He blushes at being caught, but miraculously, Bebe doesn’t tease him about it. She doesn’t even smirk as per usual. Instead, she laces their hands together between them and gives Louis’ a tight squeeze making him realize that Harry isn’t the only priceless person in his life. He has lots.

The congregation clears once Mass is over, but the quartet members stick around to pack up. Bebe has to head back to campus along with Liam who rushes off, but Louis doesn’t have anywhere to be so he sticks around too. He goes outside to wait Harry out, leaned against a tall evergreen as he swipes through his phone. His and Zayn’s conversation gets cut short as soon as he spots Harry walking over towards him wearing a smile even bigger than the one earlier this morning.

“ _Finally_ ,” Louis laughs. “I was going to just text to say how wonderful it was, but I figured I’d wait and tell you in person!” He can’t really tell if Harry heard him or not when he steps up to him, rests his violin in the grass, and cups Louis’ face in his hands.

It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the space between them even with the canopy of green hanging above them. The air only returns once their lips meet, Louis’ lungs expanding with a gasp realizing Harry’s lips truly are as soft and sweet as they look. After all this time wanting to kiss him, Louis has a hard time letting the feeling go once Harry’s mouth slows against his. Every part of Louis begs him to hold onto Harry a little bit a longer but he doesn’t go far, pulling back just enough to rest their foreheads together.

He’s still smiling just as much as before, but there’s a sort of calm and relief about it that makes Louis wonder how long he’s been wishing for that to happen too.

“I hope it’s okay I just did that,” he laughs. “In hindsight, I probably should’ve at least warned you, but I couldn’t wait. I just… I _had_ to.”

“Trust me, I didn’t mind one bit,” Louis says, finally getting the chance to run his fingers through the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. “Where did all that even come from?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, pulling back to see him properly. “I was listening to that sermon and realized half-way through it that you are all those things for me. And I knew that all along, it’s just- after hearing that, I couldn’t ignore the other things I feel for you too. I couldn’t let myself. And then I realized I also couldn’t go any longer without kissing you, so.”

“You ambushed my mouth,” Louis finishes for him making Harry bark out a laugh.

“Jesus, I’m a mess. I’m so sorry.”

Louis waves off his apology. “Don’t be. I know exactly how you feel,” he grins before connecting their lips again.


	2. Chapter 2

One Month Later

The amount of time between that first fateful kiss and the inevitable freefall that took place straight afterwards felt like the blink of an eye. Louis’ not even sure there was an in-between for them. One minute Louis was secretly pining from afar and the next he was questioning how the hell he ever made it through the day with _out_ feeling Harry’s lips on his or the way their fingers intertwine as they walk side by side.

Louis has never been this gone over someone in his life. And he has never smiled bigger or felt his heart beat faster than whenever Harry looks at him like maybe he feels the same way. Having him as a close friend already made Louis feel like one of the luckiest people on Earth, but the privilege of having Harry as more than that is one of the greatest honors he could imagine.

It’s past midnight as the second movement of Beethoven’s Op. 59 rings out in Louis’ dorm room thanks to his boyfriend’s determination to get it perfect for his next performance exam and also thanks to Louis’ love of hearing him play as often as possible which includes Sunday Mass each week. Hearing it being performed live provides Louis with the best late-night studying soundtrack ever, and also, the best view he could ask for. Watching Harry do anything is always an experience, but seeing him play is almost like a dream with the grace of his movements and the emotions in his expression as he brings to life some of the most beautiful pieces ever composed. Unfortunately for Harry though, all those beautiful pieces also happen to be some of the most difficult and this one is obviously no exception when the music suddenly stops.

Harry lowers his instrument and bow, rotating his shoulders a few times and tipping his head from side to side to try and release the building pressure there. He does that a lot. Wincing in pain whenever it’s been a full day of rehearsals with little else in between.

Louis crawls off the bed, abandoning his course work in the process to walk over to where his boyfriend is sitting in the middle of the room in an ocean of sheet music. All it takes is the familiar weight of his hands on top of Harry’s shoulders for him to lean back into the touch. Louis starts by applying gentle pressure right at the surface, kneading the taut muscles further down until Harry is releasing a long sigh of relief.

“That feels _so_ good,” he manages before another deep sigh. Louis bends to press a kiss to the top of his head, catching the subtle notes of rosemary and lavender from his shampoo.

“That’s because you’ve been working too hard, love.”

Louis chuckles at him, frowning when his hands come across a particularly tight spot just below his shoulder blade and another along the right side of his neck. It’s no wonder he had to stop playing. His whole back is probably throbbing.

“Alright, give me this,” he says, easing the violin out of Harry’s grip and placing it on the spare bed in the room that houses all of Louis’ clean shirts and hoodies he’s too lazy to hang.

Harry doesn’t argue when he’s led by the hand to the bed, grinning when he’s made to lie down flat on his stomach and Louis crawls over him to really dig into his back. As tight as it feels, Louis can’t believe he didn’t stop for a break long before now.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Harry mumbles into his duvet when Louis works out a kink between his shoulders. “That spot’s been bothering me since Monday.”

And here it is currently _Thursday_. Louis can’t imagine. “That sounds painful. Sorry, love.”

“Eh, well,” Harry shrugs. “It’s nothing I’m not used to after all this time. Kind of comes with the job.”

“Why do you do it then?” Most of the students at Marie Henry complain of body aches and minor injuries sustained through years of playing, however hardly anybody seems to have it as bad as the violinists. “Why the violin? What made you choose it and want to make it your whole life?” It’s something Louis has always wondered about him.

“That would be my wonderful grandparents,” he says fondly. “They both love the arts and one Christmas they took me to see The Nutcracker. It was amazing. We sat right next to the pit. And, I was only four but I just remember my Granddad tapping me on the shoulder all night to remind me the show was up on stage with all the dancers, but all I was interested in was watching the orchestra,” he laughs to himself. “And you know Tchaikovsky. His compositions are so grand and magical and fairy-tale-like that I thought the music was the coolest thing ever, _especially_ the violinists so I went home that night, begged my mum to let me take lessons, and it all started from there. All I wanted was to be just like them one day. To play and be part of a giant orchestra like that,” he smiles. “Still do. That’s what led me here.”

Louis slides himself from over top of Harry to settle down next to him, unable to stop grinning as he searches his eyes and moves the longer pieces of his hair away from them.

“And you’ll do it, Haz. I know you will.”

“I really hope so. It’s all so competitive. Just like everyone else here, I’ve been playing and training most of my life. We all want it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Louis assures him getting nothing but eye crinkles and a big pair of dimples in return. “Because it’s _you_ who’s going to get it.”

Harry’s gaze drops to his lips and Louis can practically feel gravity slowly pulling them together like magnets until they’re mouth to mouth. He hums at the first few slides of their lips. It’s been a while. Almost a whole hour to be exact, but it’s clear that Louis wasn’t the only one of them missing the feeling when one of Harry’s hands slides into place beneath his chin to tilt it up and the other around his waist to pull him even closer.

Louis goes willingly, grinning when he hikes one of Harry’s legs up to let the weight settle over him and lock him in. His wandering hands follow their usual path up the backs of Harry’s thighs and the swell of his bum. They linger there, his grip tightening when his lips absorb the soft moan Harry makes as a result.

The two of them end up together on Louis’ bed like this more nights than not lately. By now, he’s used to the near constant state of arousal that just goes with being alone with Harry in a locked room. It happens almost every time they’re together this way. And although they haven’t had sex yet, it’s basically all he thinks about. They’ve experimented with a few hand jobs here and there and Louis’ pretty sure his brain stopped working completely the night he got to feel Harry’s mouth around him for the first time. His imagination has been in overdrive ever since. For much, much longer than that if Louis’ being completely honest.

They haven’t really discussed it, but Louis feels like maybe tonight could be the one when he rolls them so he’s on top and Harry’s legs immediately fall open around his hips. His breaths come in short bursts until it cuts out completely from the superficial thrust Louis makes against him. He can’t resist doing it again, watching Harry’s bottom lip turn white when he sinks his teeth into it to keep quiet the same way he does whenever Louis’ sucking him off.

“Fuck, Haz, I want you so bad,” Louis whispers, leaning down to taste his lips again now that they’re bright cherry red. “Stay with me tonight?” Harry has only slept over a couple of times, but never while they’re _this_ riled up. After fantasizing about it for the past month, Louis nearly comes in his jeans hearing Harry admit that he wants him too. “Y-Yeah? You do?”

“I do. _Fuck_ ,” Harry pants out, his nails digging into Louis’ shoulder blades through his t-shirt when a new deep thrust has him scrambling for something to hold on to. “…And, I really, _really_ want to, I just- I never really have before, so,” he says sending cool chills down Louis’ arms that fade once he notices the nervous expression on Harry’s face. He stops moving, playing Harry’s words back a second time to make sure he heard them correctly.

“You’re a virgin,” he realizes once some of the blood rushing to his dick reroutes to his brain.

“Er- Well, yes. Sort of.”

“Sort of...” Louis repeats with a chuckle, curious as to how exactly that works.

“I mean, I’ve done other things like blow jobs obviously.” Obviously is right. Harry’s hands and mouth are the best he’s ever had. That’s probably why he just assumed Harry was equally as experienced with everything else. “I’ve been with guys before from my hometown, just never quite like this.”

Louis isn’t sure what that means until Harry laces their hands together and his stomach does a full flip.

“You’ve never been serious with someone you mean.” Louis hadn’t realized that’s where they are now, but he’s thrilled finding out because he’s never really been serious with anyone either.

Harry shakes his head to confirm Louis’ guess, his cheeks now flushing more so from embarrassment than the two of them dry-humping. “Um, there weren’t many people who were out when I was in school, and with violin I guess I didn’t really have the time? I was so busy training to get here that I missed out on some normal teenager things.”  

He may have spent more time rehearsing than dating around, but Louis doesn’t see that as a loss. Looking back, he kind of wishes he had waited too. “You didn’t miss out on anything, love. Meaningless sex when you’re young is just- well, _meaningless_ , for the most part,” he smirks. “And it’s perfectly okay if you’re nervous and you want to wait longer. I get it.” He’d wait for as long as Harry asked him to.

“Thanks, Lou,” he smiles, pressing up to leave a kiss on his jaw. “But, now that I have you, I don’t really want to wait much longer if that’s okay?” Louis has to momentarily close his eyes to get himself in check. He opens them after a few seconds to find Harry laughing at him. “Not right this _second_ of course. But, soon,” he chuckles. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Alright then. Soon,” Louis nods, hoping he won’t explode or die between now and whenever that may be.

He steals a quick kiss from Harry’s lips before reclaiming his place by his side rather than on top of him.

“What are you thinking about now?” Harry asks when Louis sighs, reaching over to twirl his fingers around the loose curls of his fringe.

“Terrible and horrific shit so my bloody jeans won’t feel so tight,” he snorts making Harry laugh and look semi-guilty after a quick glance down at Louis still straining against his zipper.

“So, is that invitation for me to sleep over still good, or?”

“Of course, love. You’re welcome to stay here anytime. Painful, mind-numbing erection or not.”

Harry cackles so loud that his neighbor beats his fist against their shared wall as per usual in a subtle request for them to shut the fuck up.

“I can still take care of that, you know,” Harry purrs which isn’t at all helping matters. “I mean, I think it’s only fair after how well you took care of me earlier.”

That was just a simple back massage, but Louis doesn’t complain when Harry kneels at the side of the bed and rolls down Louis’ jeans, already licking his full lips in preparation to give him a massage of a different caliber. And his stuffy next door neighbor better enjoy that silence while it lasts because Louis has zero intentions of keeping quiet about it.

*

That night ended a bit differently than Louis expected, and yet it was still completely perfect. Anytime he gets to wake up next to Harry is always amazing regardless of what did or didn’t happen the night before. No matter if they’re tired, hungover messes like the first time they fell asleep together or if they’re snuggled up close between the sheets just for the chance to be near one another. It’s the best feeling in the world as far as he’s concerned. Harry said he wants to wait to have sex which Louis understands and fully respects, so in the meantime they’re just enjoying the thrill of being together as per usual, and also, slowly driving each other mad with every touch.

Early morning music theory continues to be the most heinous offence in existence a few weeks later. The course work is a headache and eight a.m. is still a despicable time of day to be forced to do anything productive, but despite his initial beliefs, learning to read music and properly analyze it really is helping him to become a better musician, which is what he came here to do. There’s that, and the fact that his boyfriend now sits right beside him every class, offering Louis assistance when he doesn’t understand the lecture, or in most cases, a warm side to snuggle into now that the weather has turned cool.

Louis gives a great sigh that just morphs into a giant yawn as he digs his laptop out of his bag to take notes. He slumps back in his seat once he’s done, all the energy he had spent on that one task.

“Sleepy?” Harry chuckles next to him looking so bright-eyed and awake that it should be illegal. He’s also impossibly cute with his bedhead curls.

“I’m convinced I’m sleep walking at this point. None of this is real.”

Louis cracks a stubborn smile when Harry laughs at him again. Morning people always sort of annoyed Louis, but it’s impossible to listen to a lively sound like that and not feel just a bit better about having to be conscious.

“Well, Li’s here. That should make you feel better,” He says making Louis sit bolt upright in his seat to scan the lecture hall full of people taking their seats. It makes him feel infinitely better when he spots their friend walking up the steps of their section carrying their usual tray of Tuesday/Thursday morning caffeine from the student coffee shop.

“ _Bless you_ , _mate_ ,” Louis says, making grabby hands for his cappuccino before Liam even sits down next to them. The cup is just the right temperature for him to take, slumping back in his chair once he has it and sighing at the first delicious sip. “Liam Payne, what would I do without you?”

“Sleep through theory,” he mutters making Harry laugh again just as their professor walks in.

Her lecture on relative and parallel keys doesn’t go right over Louis’ head thanks mostly in part to the amazing notes he took yesterday with Harry who was kind enough to go through the chapter with him beforehand. Today, Louis focuses all his energy on adding to his notes as their professor goes into more detail, only pausing to take quick sips of his cappuccino and meet Harry’s fond grin while watching him be so studious. Louis types right up to the very end of the class until someone below them changes the subject and asks about some solo showcase event that catches his attention.

Apparently, it’s optional, only a few brave souls attempt it (mostly fourth year students), and it takes place every year, but this time the date coincides with their theory final at the end of the semester. Even so, their professor says she doesn’t mind meeting with anyone who’d like an extra set of eyes to look over their competition pieces. Louis has never even heard of this showcase but a legitimate excuse to sit around mixing all day sounds like something he can get behind even if there is composition and theory involved.

“Professor? Is this open to all students? Even non-traditionals?”

Everybody in the room turns in search of the bold person who just said that. Their faces are all marked with surprised when they realize it was Louis, none more pleasantly so than Professor Young.

“Yes, of course. All students and styles are welcome,” she answers him. “Are you interested in performing, Louis?”

“Oh... um, I don’t really know,” he says, clearing his throat when he feels every pair of eyes trained on him; some with respect for him wanting to try something so different, most with incredulity and disbelief that he even opened his mouth. “Er- Maybe? Probably not,” he decides. “I was just curious.”

“Well, I sure hope you consider changing your mind, Louis,” she grins. “This showcase could use someone like you and I personally would love to see what you’d come up with.”

Initially, getting up and performing in front of the entire Marie Henry faculty and student body didn’t sound quite as appealing as the composition part of it, but Professor Young’s excitement about the prospect of Louis participating does make him give it a bit of thought. Or a lot. His boyfriend who makes it his personal mission to needle him about it every chance he gets is also great encouragement.

“Change your mind yet?” he asks one afternoon while they’re tucked away inside a rehearsal room instead of their usual study spot due to the now constant chill in the air.

Louis glances up from the pair of timpani drums he’s using as a desk to find Harry’s face just inches from his. He laughs at his proximity and the fact that he seems to be only getting closer. “It’s not easy to concentrate when you’re doing that, you know. Or _that_ ,” he hums feeling a warm pair of lips tease the skin along his neck. Louis can’t deny that it feels good even though technically Harry should be playing right now and Louis should be reading.

“Well, stop being stubborn and say you’ll do the showcase with me then,” he whispers before gently biting at Louis’ earlobe making it nearly impossible for Louis to say anything at all.

Louis goes silent as love-bites bloom to life beneath his ear and jawline, feeling his heart beat a bit faster with each one.

“D-Don’t you have a concerto memorize?”

At this very moment, Louis can hear several other violins in rehearsal rooms surrounding theirs playing through the same difficult Vivaldi piece that Harry came here to perfect.

Harry doesn’t even acknowledge the question, walking around Louis’ chair to take a seat right on his lap. His weight is as familiar as the taste of his mouth when they kiss. Louis welcomes both, his stomach alive and fluttering as Harry holds his face in his hands, hardly letting him catch a breath in between one surge of his tongue and the next. Louis’ hands slide up the pair of thick thighs draped over him and beneath the stolen hoodie he’s wearing to settle around his waist. Harry’s middle is all he has to hang on to as he slides forward on his lap even more until there’s not an inch of space between them.

It’s always hard for Louis to keep his composure when they get this way; so handsy and desperate that they both sort of forget where they are. The inside of Louis’ jaw stings when he bites down on it after a roll of Harry’s hips against him creates the mental image of the two of them fucking on top of the drums or even on the piano in the corner. It flickers through his mind with such clarity that he pulls back for a moment just to recover but Harry moves with him, kissing him breathless as if he’ll never get another chance.

“Fuck, I want to have sex with you so bad,” he pants, causing Louis’ grip around him to tighten and his eyes to fly open. “I-I _have_ to. I can’t wait anymore.” And Louis can’t pretend he isn’t rock hard right now, on the exact same page as him.

“Shit, really? _Here_? _Right_ _now_?”

Harry splutters a laugh into his mouth, his green eyes all lit up as Louis quickly turns his head to peek at the privacy blinds hanging over the glass door to the room which have been drawn since they arrived since the door doesn’t lock. That piano sex fantasy from a second ago was only meant to be a fantasy. And sure, Louis had imagined their first time together and Harry’s first time ever to be slightly more romantic but he’s not at all opposed to deviating from that plan if Harry isn’t.

“We’re not having sex in here,” his boyfriend chuckles with a fond shake of his head. And Louis knows that. On some level. “These walls are paper thin and there isn’t even a lock.”

“Eh. Mere technicalities,” Louis shrugs.

“We only have the room for another eight minutes,” he says making Louis scoff.

“That’s _plenty_ of time, love. Just ask my right hand.”

Harry cackles so loud that every other person on the floor must’ve heard it. “Alright, time’s not an issue, but we don’t have any lube,” he points out smugly, his eyes going slightly wide when Louis gives him a contradictory raise of his eyebrow before glancing at his backpack on the floor. Harry’s laugh bounces off the walls of the small room again, making it impossible for the whole building not to have heard him. “You have not been carrying around lube and condoms everywhere we go,” he snorts.

Louis dares him to go check, cracking a smile that calls his bluff just as Harry gets up to do so. Though, he can’t pretend the idea of a quickie between classes hasn’t struck him on more than one occasion. “No, I haven’t been,” Louis admits, giving Harry’s waist a small squeeze to keep him in place. “But, I did buy some for us to keep in my room just to be safe. For, uh, whenever we do decide we want to.” He also stopped by the student health center to get himself tested that same day; something he hadn’t done in a while but should’ve. Not just for Harry’s sake, but for his own.

A small grin tugs at Harry’s lips before he leans for another kiss that’s so light Louis can’t help but grin back.

“How about tonight?” There’s literally zero chance of Louis saying no and yet Harry’s bottom lip is anxiously pulled between his teeth.

“Of course, Haz. If that’s what you really want. If you’re sure, I mean.”

“Absolutely,” he beams, making even Louis’ stomach erupt with butterflies. “I can’t wait.”

This isn’t exactly Louis’ first time but it’s the only one he has ever truly cared about. He’s so excited for them to be taking the next step he finds he can’t wait either.

They politely decline the group’s plans to go see a movie at the student center that night. With Harry off rehearsing to make up for all the time he missed earlier, Louis is left giving a vague excuse for the both of them about late-night studying that doesn’t really convince Liam, Bebe, Niall, or Zayn. Not that it matters of course. Their knowing, smug grins at dinner around the delinquents table don’t bother Louis one bit knowing that he gets Harry to himself all night. Well, once he’s finished with Antonio Vivaldi of course. _Then_ Louis can have him.

Harry shows up at his door later than he expected wearing an adorably apologetic grin. He’s got his violin and backpack as per usual, but also a smaller bag he only brings over when he intends to stay. Just seeing it clutched in his hand has Louis’ heart pitter-pattering in his chest.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s fine, love.” Louis steps aside and widens the door to let him in. “What kept you?”

“Rehearsal went a bit long,” he explains as he walks in and drops off his stuff on the spare bed that’s actually cleared off for once. Harry grins at it and the rest of Louis’ room which is noticeably tidier.

“Aw, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that piece was giving you such a hard time.”

“Well, it’s not. Not really,” he admits with pink cheeks. “I was just having trouble focusing I guess.”

Louis chuckles, taking both of Harry’s hands in his and giving them a squeeze. “Mind somewhere else?”

“Or on some _one_ else,” Harry quietly confesses. “I honestly couldn’t wait to get here.”

It’s times like these that Louis questions how Harry is even real and how it’s possible for his heart to skip so many times whenever he says things like that.  

“Me too,” Louis grins, dropping Harry’s hands to take hold of his waist instead. “I missed you.” They just saw each other a few hours ago, but it’s still a full body rush when their lips meet.

This kiss isn’t as desperate as the one they shared earlier in the rehearsal room, but it’s just as impassioned with Harry already keening to be closer to him, practically stepping on his feet to kiss him deeper.

Louis starts walking them to the bed and it’s difficult to tell where one person ends and the other begins once they land on top of it in a blur of tongues and wandering hands. Harry’s back arches off the bed to keep their mouths connected, however the hem of Louis’ shirt is already tugged half-way up his torso so he momentarily breaks their kiss to pull it over his head. Harry doesn’t immediately surge forward again, running his palms over the tattoos along his chest and arms instead.

He often catches Harry admiring them with a curiosity bordering on slight obsession, but tonight he pulls Louis down to lie in his place and runs his tongue over every single one. Louis lies perfectly still, letting Harry trace the letters and numbers inked into his skin until he’s so hard he’s biting down on his own lip each time Harry so much as breathes over one of his nipples. Louis gets to return the favor once Harry is done torturing him though, stripping him of his shirt as well and forcing him to lie back. There isn’t a drop of ink to be seen on Harry’s creamy skin but Louis tries his best to give it some color, taking the time to suck tiny bruises everywhere his mouth can reach. Harry’s hips buck upwards when Louis unties his joggers and pulls them down low enough to leave marks so close to his dick that there’s a wet spot over the seam of them from how hard he is. Louis can’t resist tasting him, taking his joggers off completely and slowly sinking his mouth down around his familiar length.

Any other night, having Harry come down his throat would be amazing, but would also mean the end of their evening so Louis paces himself. Giving enough to have his boyfriend whining and pulling at his own hair but not overwhelming him so much that he’s done before they even really get started. Louis pulls off when he can feel his Harry shaking from trying to keep still. He’s a mess already, breathless, covered in love bites, and flushed from the neck up when Louis licks into his mouth.

“Keep going?” he checks watching his favorite pair of dimples appear along with the dopey smile Harry sports when he nods and sits up to watch Louis pop over to his bedside table for the lube and box of condoms he bought a few weeks ago in anticipation of this very night.

He feels a thrum of nerves and excitement when he rejoins Harry on the bed in nothing but his joggers that feel incredibly uncomfortable now that he just wants to take them off. Harry looks just as anxious to get started as him when they lock eyes.

“So, how do you want to do this? I’m comfortable with whatever you want to do,” Louis assures him.

Harry glances down at the items lying between them, but still looks largely undecided. They never really talked about who would top and who would bottom. Louis assumed they’d just figure it out when the time came.

“Well, what do you like?” he asks, answering his question with a question.

“This is supposed to be about what _you_ like,” Louis chuckles, “But, honestly I don’t mind either. Both feel amazing in different ways.”

“Then, which do you like best?”

There really is no definitive answer to that question for Louis so he isn’t quite sure how to answer it, but he tries.

“Being fucked is like, you feel it _everywhere_. All over and all at once. God, and when you come like that, your body hums and tingles the whole time you’re coming down,” he grins. “It can be pretty intense and you feel so full it’s like you can’t breathe sometimes, but in a good way. The _best_ way,” Louis assures him, privately amused by the way his eyes widen.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But, then there’s nothing quite like being inside of someone either. Feeling them hot and tight around you, but so wet and slick that you can’t stop chasing the heat of them even though you really could’ve come two seconds after pushing in. But, _fuck_ , is making yourself hold out and wait for it worth it, because the moment just feels so good while you’re in it that you never want it to end no matter how close you are to coming and your body is literally screaming for you to finally let go,” he finishes with a wistful sigh. It’s been so long since he’s been with anybody that he almost forgot those things himself. 

Harry’s leaking again. This time all over his own stomach looking like he could come right now just from hearing about it.

“Top first,” he decides after giving it about a millisecond of thought.

“Excellent choice,” Louis praises him, though it’s not like there was ever a _wrong_ choice here. They’re going to have sex regardless, and Louis can’t tell if he’s buzzing more because Harry’s going to get to experience what he just described or because Louis gets to be on the other side of it which is just as mind-blowing.

Louis leans in to connect their mouths again before standing up to finally get rid of his bottoms. Harry’s eyes are trained right on him, taking in every inch of his bare skin as Louis grabs the lube and then stretches back on the bed with his knees bent. He begins opening himself up without even pausing to consider Harry and how he might like to do it for him. The thought doesn’t even cross his mind until he’s two fingers in and the bed dips as Harry inches closer to him.

“Can I?”

“Please,” he says, watching Harry slick up his fingers. Harry’s hands are much bigger than his. His fingers are also longer and a lot defter from years of playing the violin which Louis has always known but never fully appreciated until Harry finds his spot almost immediately. It’s completely by accident he’s sure, but that doesn’t make it feel any less amazing as Louis trembles against his touch over and over again. He lets Harry experiment on him by adding fingers and trying different angles until Louis is a babbling mess on the bed. Harry watches him the whole time, smirking a bit once he learns exactly what to do to have Louis swearing up at the ceiling.

“Good?”

It’s too fucking good really. Louis is enjoying his fingers so much that he has to actively remind himself why he can’t just come this way. That everything he’s feeling right now is only going to be compounded once Harry starts fucking him. “H-Haz, I’m ready. I’m- I’m good,” he breathes out just in time to stop Harry from rubbing over his spot again and ending this whole thing. Harry’s mouth tastes so familiar when he leans down to kiss him. The slow slide of their lips is just what Louis needs to compose himself, but the sting of Harry’s teeth nipping along his bottom lip has Louis eager to get Harry inside of him.

He sits up to balance himself on his hands and knees because that position always feels great and it’s also the easiest for someone doing this for the first time. Harry runs his hands along the arch of his back leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “Do you want me to use a condom?” he whispers, when he kneels behind Louis at the foot of the bed.

Technically, he doesn’t have to since Louis bought that box before he got tested. Some people like using them regardless though. “Only if you want to. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Harry decides pretty quickly in choosing to go without one, unknowingly sending cool chills down Louis’ back at the thought of them being skin to skin.

“Whenever you’re ready, love. And don’t worry, you won’t hurt me,” Louis promises after Harry slicks himself up and releases a shaky breath. He lines up to push inside of him and Louis waits for Harry to do it with his heartbeat in his throat, so eager to have that full feeling back that he moans and drops down to his forearms as soon as he gets it.

Seconds tick by where he keeps expecting for Harry to pull out and push back in, but nothing happens. He glances over his shoulder to finds his boyfriend carefully inhaling and exhaling with his eyes closed and his grip so tight around Louis’ hips it almost hurts. Louis doesn’t push him. He waits as patiently as he can while they both adjust until finally Harry pulls back and gently thrusts in again making himself moan and Louis gasp as his breath is stolen away.

Harry does it again, swearing from the drag of Louis clenched around him while he plays with different speeds and rhythms until he finds the ones he likes best. The pace he chooses is just slow enough for Louis feel every inch of him slipping in and out of his body but relentless enough to have his thighs shaking from the muscle behind his thrusts. Louis’ hands are splayed on either side of his face where it’s pressed flat against the mattress, forgetting his role as experienced coach in this situation to simply hold on and take it. The ragged noises falling from Louis’ lips aren’t familiar to his own ears, but he doesn’t care how loud or desperate he sounds. Not when Harry is fucking him this good.

“Fuck, Haz, that’s amazing,” he praises him, his breathy words turning into another moan when the rhythm of their skin slapping together has him reaching down to stroke himself in time.

“Yeah?” Harry pants. “It feels good?”

“ _So_ fucking good,” he chokes out, able to feel Harry everywhere just like he said. “And you? Still good?” Besides a few quick peeks over his shoulder, Louis hasn’t really checked in on him much, but all the pleased sounds he’s been making between all the mindless, yet highly flattering rambling about Louis’ bum have been more than enough to know he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. A new position could be a nice change though. If given the chance, Louis would ride him until neither of them could fucking see straight. However, nothing sends his heart beating faster or his adrenaline rushing more than when Harry says he’d like to switch so Louis can fuck him too.

“I just- I really want to feel what it’s like. How it feels having you inside me. Please.”

It takes everything Louis has to not come right then and there hearing him literally beg for it, and Harry still burying himself inside of Louis as far as humanly possible isn’t helping. Louis can hardly wrap his head around the fact that he now gets to fuck his boyfriend after already being fucked _by_ him. It’s such an exciting prospect that he agrees to it without a moment’s hesitation and more than the one time that was probably necessary.

“Shit, a-alright. Okay,” he nods. “Sure- I mean, _yes_. I’d love to. Of course.”

“Yeah? Really?” Harry checks, letting his hips still so they can catch their breaths. “You don’t mind?” _Mind_? Louis can hardly even form sentences just thinking about it. This is a fucking gift.

He feels empty when Harry pulls out of him, but he doesn’t dwell on the feeling for long before he’s locked in a long kiss that makes his stomach flutter with butterflies as well as anticipation. Harry goes easily when Louis guides him to lie back against the pillows, grinning when Louis peppers kisses from his neck down, even stopping to show his knees some appreciation before gently spreading them apart so Louis can fit in the middle. He coats his fingers in lube making sure to use a lot more than he normally would since this is Harry’s first time. But, just as Louis moves to press the first finger against him, he abandons that plan entirely, dipping down to wipe the little grin off Harry’s face when he runs the flat of his tongue against his opening instead. 

The scandalized yet pleasantly surprised gasp he gets in return encourages him to repeat the action, delighting in the shuddered breath his boyfriend lets out above him when Louis blows cool air over his skin. From then on, opening him up is like a game, using his mouth at first to make him swear aloud and clench at the duvet and then easing his fingers inside to complete the job, making it hard for his boyfriend to speak at all.

“You alright up there?” Louis chuckles, watching Harry’s chest deflate with a pleased sigh and his knuckles regain their color when his grip slackens. He nods lazily, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Louis wipe at his mouth.

“Does not using a condom bother you?” he asks as he watches Louis carefully roll one on.

“Nope, not at all, but I know this will all be over in three seconds if I _don’t_ wear one,” he laughs, lowering himself over Harry once he’s all slicked up and ready.

Harry is smiling when Louis kisses him one more time just because he can. He’s still kind of a mess right now all flushed and sweaty with his hair going in a million directions, but he also looks happy to be lying here together which is the most important thing.

“Are you ready?” Louis whispers against his lips, feeling Harry nod and his mouth fall open in a silent gasp when Louis reaches down to push inside of him. He freezes at only half-way in to let Harry get used to the change, distracting him from the feeling of being stretched so far by pressing kisses to his face. He whispers about how great he’s doing until Harry’s brow unfurrows and Louis presses in the last couple of inches.

There’s so little room and give to Harry’s muscles when they’re fully connected that Louis has to bite at the inside of his jaw just to keep from pulling out. He’s so tight that it’s almost painful being inside of him, but eventually Harry relaxes enough so that he doesn’t feel quite so paralyzed by the squeeze. And soon, he’s able to move without reducing either of them to tears.

He can tell by the way Harry is hardly breathing that the first couple of minutes of Louis trying to move hurt more than they feel good, but it doesn’t take long before his body adjusts and he’s making noises that sound more pleasured than pained.

“Alright?” Louis checks when he notices the new looseness in Harry’s grip around him and his legs now comfortably hooked around his hips to keep him close.

“Mhmm. Feels good. Nice,” he decides, moaning a little when Louis rolls his hips with more intent. Harry’s legs hike up his waist some more, his thighs bracketing Louis in as he starts to really fuck him, in an effort to turn good and nice into something great for the both of them. 

His decision to wear a condom turns out to be a good one when they start moving together and Harry’s moans are all he can focus on besides how amazingly warm and slick he feels. Every second Louis is inside him makes the pit of his stomach burn as he revels in the perfect heat surrounding him. He tries not to think too hard about how close he’s getting already as he presses Harry’s knees further back to try and find Harry’s spot, certain he’s found it the moment he pushes a long stroke inside of Harry whose voice cuts out all together after a deep, guttural moan that the whole building probably heard.

“Still _just_ good?” Louis whispers, grinning as he watches his boyfriend give a helpless shake of his head in answer.

“Do that again,” he pleads, his eyes rolling back when that wave of pleasure washes over him again. “F-Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Louis doesn’t even have to try for his spot a third time before Harry is tensing up and spilling between them in warm bursts just as promised. He had no idea Harry was so close to the edge all this time but Louis can’t even judge when he’s been teetering on the line ever since Harry first pushed inside of him. He only chases his own orgasm for a moment before his stomach floods with heat, tenses, and then he’s coming too, buried so deep inside Harry his vision is starred when he opens his eyes.

“Holy shit,” Harry mumbles to no one in particular as he comes down with Louis still lying half on top of him, too drained to move.

“Ears ringing?” Louis asks knowingly. His certainly are. Louis’ toes are even all tingly.

“Yeah. A bit.”

“Mmm. Mine too,” Louis grins against his shoulder. “Your body doing that cool humming thing I mentioned?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry laughs breathlessly before pulling Louis down into a kiss. “And it’s fucking amazing just like you said.”

That’s a much better review than good or nice so Louis takes it.

\-------------------

It must be past midnight when Harry grins at him from his side of the pillow because Louis has yet to take his eyes off him.

“What?” he chuckles, playfully bumping their knees together. “What are you thinking so hard about over there, huh?” Harry smooths his thumb over the back of Louis’ hand, warming his chest from the inside out.

“That I love you,” he answers without a moment’s hesitation. He’s been lying here thinking it for hours. Weeks. Possibly even the whole time he’s been here. He’s never really been in love before but he’s sure this is it. And he’s sure Harry feels it too when his lips pull up into the happiest smile he’s ever seen on someone’s face.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. Have been for quite a while now,” Harry admits. Louis remembers the days when Harry could hardly meet his gaze without blushing. Without making _Louis_ blush because no one had ever looked at him that way before. He made Louis feel so accepted and wanted in a place where most people never bothered and Harry hasn’t stopped making him feel that since the day they met.

“I’m going to do the showcase,” he reveals, watching Harry’s smile grow even larger. “I’ve been thinking hard about that too and you and everyone else thinks it’s a good idea, so, I want to do it.”

Louis is met with a big celebratory kiss that makes him laugh from how quickly he’s pulled into it and then released so Harry can just stare at him in awe. “Good. You should. I’m proud of you.”

For someone who has been annoying the living shit out of him for weeks about this decision, Louis would’ve thought he’d have a lot more to say.

“That’s it?” he frowns. “No big pep talk about representing the new era at Marie Henry or chancellor-worthy speech about going for the gold and breaking down musical barriers with all my innovation, charisma, and charm?”

“Nope,” Harry smirks. “And besides, you can’t go for the gold when _I’ve_ already claimed it. I fully intend to kick your arse. Er- With love of course,” he says sweetly, bringing Louis’ hand up to press a kiss to it with his eyes shining.

That’s big talk from a person who kept fucking up his Vivaldi piece tonight due to the promise of sex and frequently trips going _up_ stairs, but Louis admires his confidence. Also, he thinks it’s kind of hot he’s so competitive.

“Well, babe, that’s wonderful because I accept your challenge and fully intend to kick _your_ arse,” he says, making him squirm and cackle when he pokes his boyfriend in the side. “Also with love,” Louis tacks on before pulling him into a fresh kiss.

So much love.


	3. Chapter 3

When Louis had heard about the showcase that day in music theory he had laughed to himself about participating in it because he thought the only way he ever would was in fact, _in theory_. It’s a reality now thanks to his professor, his boyfriend who’s also going to perform, and his best friends who believe in him and support him all the way. Without all those people, Louis would never have had the guts to do this; to compete against students destined to become some of the most brilliant musicians in the world, or, have the courage to stand up in front of them and prove that even though he may not feel like it sometimes, he belongs at Marie Henry too.

Now that he’s composing a piece to perform at the showcase, his days have never been busier. Between focusing on that as well as classes, readings, essays ( _and_ theory analyses he’s slowly but surely getting better at thanks to his magnificent tutor), he’s spread pretty thin. However, no matter how challenging or demanding his new life as a music student gets, he still makes sure to carve enough time out of it to be just Louis too; the over-studious friend and boyfriend who gets willingly kidnapped and dragged to some party celebrating nothing at all besides it being the weekend. 

It’s a welcome distraction. Especially since the first party he attended this semester seems like a whole lifetime away. Back when he was just trying to navigate being in a new place with his amazing new friends while also side-eyeing the strange, curly-haired kid with the violin who seemed to blush and grin at him from across every room. It’s been months since then, but really, not that much has changed. Louis’ still navigating. Finding his way a bit more day by day. He still has his amazing friends like Zayn and Bebe who finally got their shit together and are now just as disgustingly gross and in love as he and Harry. Niall is still hilarious and remains an honorary delinquent adoptee, just like Liam whom he hasn’t known for quite as long, but who has easily become one of Louis’ favorite people on Earth.

Unfortunately, the curly-haired kid with the violin is still a complete weirdo. The spontaneous blushing has mostly stopped, but the grinning sure hasn’t. In fact, he’s doing it _right now_ except instead of him being across the room somewhere, he’s sitting comfortably across Louis’ lap with a half-empty beer in his hand. And when Louis grins back and tightens his arms around his middle, he sets that beer down to kiss him like nobody else is watching.

Several balled up beer wrappers shower down on his and Harry’s heads making them splutter laughs into each other’s mouths.

“ _Oi_ ,” Niall kicks at Louis’ shoe letting him know somebody _other_ than his boyfriend needs his attention at the moment. “Could you two focus a little? We’re trying to have a conversation here.”

Louis snorts another laugh as he hides his face in the side of Harry’s t-shirt for protection, only daring lifting his head again once they’re no longer being chastised for drunken PDA. He glances around the sitting area in the living room of…well, _someone’s_ house (once again, he’s not too sure whose party this is or whose linen closet they fooled around in earlier), finding all his friends staring back at him with bored expressions.

“Oh. Er- I was totally listening,” Louis lies. “We both were.”

“Y-Yeah,” Harry nods in agreement. “Zayn and Bebe said that thing and then Liam agreed.”

“Not at all,” Zayn informs them from where he’s sitting on the floor leaned back against the chair Bebe claimed. “Didn’t say a word.”

“Nor did I,” Bebe chuckles, combing her fingers through his hair where his head’s resting against her knee. At the moment, it’s not bright green or pink or even platinum blonde like hers. It’s just his natural deep chocolate that matches his eyes and makes Bebe powerless to resist touching it now that he’s growing it out.

“Um, _I_ did,” Liam speaks up over what’s left of the noise of the party that finally started to die down about an hour ago. “I asked if you and Haz have picked a mentor yet for if you win the showcase.”

Louis blinks at the question, having never really considered who he’d want to work with because winning isn’t what he’s in this for. He doesn’t even really want to win. He’s just doing it for fun.

“If I could choose anybody on Earth, I’d ask for Gil Shaham. Ooh, or Joshua Bell,” Liam says dreamily. “They’re the people who made me want to play violin in the first place. They’re both so amazing.”

Louis has no idea who either of those people are but Harry sure does, gasping at the mention of their names and nearly spilling his beer all over their jeans. “They are good and brilliant, but not as brilliant as Tchaikovsky. I’d want him if I could have anybody,” he smiles, frowning when someone points out that Tchaikovsky’s a little dead. Or _a lot_. “Fine. Whatever. I guess, Gil or Josh. Since people have to actually be ‘ _living_ ’ in this game,” he rolls his eyes. 

“So what if the person’s not living? Hendrix is dead but he’s my top pick any day. Greatest guitarist who ever lived,” Zayn declares and gets no argument, especially not from Niall.

“Good choice,” he says, raising his beer in agreement. “I love him too. Also, Eric Clapton, Glenn Frey from the Eagles, and Lindsey Buckingham from Fleetwood.”

“ _Ooh_ , nice,” Bebe grins. “Well since you’re taking Lindsey can I have Stevie Nicks?” she asks only for Harry to violently shake his head.

“Sorry, but no,” he answers for Niall and apparently, the world at large. “Absolutely not. She’s my favorite. _I_ want her.”

“Um, you already have Tchaikovsky remember?” Bebe kindly reminds him. “And besides that, Stevie’s useless to you. She doesn’t even play violin.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry insists. “Our love transcends the violin and I’m sure she’d love to learn. You can have Beyoncé. You love her.”

“Oh, yeah?” she raises an eyebrow in challenge. “How about I just take both of them and while I’m at it I’ll have Tchaikovsky as well.”

Harry’s mouth snaps shut at that, his brow furrowing as he thinks it over and slowly comes around. “Okay. Maybe we can _share_ Stevie Nicks. She can sing with you for half the day and then hang out with me for the rest.”

“Nope,” Bebe maintains. “It’s either Stevie or all _three_. Hypothetically take it or leave it.”

No one says a word during their stare-off. That Bebe of course _wins_.

“Ugh. Fine then,” Harry concedes. “You can have her.”

“ _Wow_. How incredibly big of you, babe. You’re so selfless.” Louis laughs, rewarding him with a consolation kiss to the jaw just as Zayn congratulates Bebe with a proud fist bump for standing her ground.

“So, who do you want, Lou?” Liam asks. “You’re the one who’s actually going to be in this thing like Harry.” And, oh yeah. He is. Both Liam and Bebe said no to the showcase claiming they don’t feel quite ready enough this year. Zayn is and probably always will be more than ready to blow everyone away with his talent but playing solo in front of huge crowds isn’t really his thing. And Niall who’s just as amazing of a guitarist as Zayn says he’s so busy trying to keep his head above water with classes that adding anything else would surely drown him.

“ _I_ know who’d he’d pick,” Harry grins knowingly. “ _Steve Oaky_.”

“Aoki,” Louis stage whispers.

“ _Aoki_ ,” Harry corrects. “World famous DJ and music producer, who also happens to be a musical god among men slash genius.”

“ _Very_ nice, babe. I’ve taught you well,” Louis says, his mouth only making it half the distance he needs to reach Harry’s lips when Liam speaks up again.

“So, that’s who you’re requesting for if you win?”

“Well, hypothetically sure,” Louis laughs. “I don’t exactly see me and my non-instrument winning over everyone else. Or Steve Aoki agreeing to come hang out at Marie Henry for a day just because I won some contest.” Him strolling through the campus of a music conservatory is a pretty funny image though.

“He could. You never know,” Liam shrugs. “I heard a voice student asked Andrea Bocelli a few years ago and he said yes.”

“Yeah, Lou. It’s Marie Fucking Henry and you’re the first production student to be let in here _ever_ ,” Zayn grins at him. “You’re kind of a big deal, mate.”

Louis rolls his eyes feeling his cheeks warm as everyone agrees.

“Fuck off. I am not,” he insists even though his friends continue to disagree. “And, for the record, I’m definitely not going to win either. I don’t even have a song yet which is kind of the number one basic requirement for this thing.”

“What? That’s literally all you’ve been working on these past three weeks,” Niall point out. “How do you not have a song?”

“He _has_ a song,” Harry fondly rolls his eyes. “He’s just being _greedy_ and refuses to let anyone hear it including me.”

There’s nowhere for Louis to go when Harry tickles him in the side, making him cackle until it almost hurts. “Technically, I have _half_ a song…” he tells everyone once Harry’s finished torturing him. “I just keep feeling like something’s missing. It’s not done yet.” _He’s_ not done.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t being so _greedy_ maybe someone could help you out with your masterpiece... _Me_!” His boyfriend loudly nominates himself. “I want to hear it.”

“What? No way,” Louis teases. “You’re the competition. The _enemy._ And it’s not like you haven’t been just as secretive,” he adds remembering a few days ago when Harry literally tackled him to keep him from reading a piece of sheet music that managed to fall out of his bag.

Harry doesn’t disagree, but he doesn’t look any less determined to hear what Louis’ been working so hard on.

“So, we’ll do a truce. A ceasefire.” Louis laughs and rolls his eyes, but Harry looks dead serious. “No, really, babe. For one night and one night only we’ll agree to pause all compit-tive-ivenes… er- _competitiveness_ ,” Harry enunciates. He’s so drunk he can barely even say the word competitiveness. But, Louis loves watching him try.

*

Harry stretches out on Louis’ unmade bed the moment they get back. Barefoot with a lazy grin across his face, and his half-lidded eyes pinned right on Louis as they have been all night.

Louis’ fingers slip on his MacBook a bit when he grabs it from the desk making Harry make a snorting sound from the bed. “Nervous?” he giggles.

Still intoxicated more like, but Louis’ sure there are some nerves mixed up in his stomach along with all the alcohol.

“Uh… maybe a little,” he admits with a shrug. It’s not like he expects to win with this song, but even so he has spent a lot of time working on it and Harry’s opinion is so important to him. The _most_ important.

“You’re worried for nothing. I haven’t heard a second of it and I already know it’s incredible, love. It has to be.”

Louis cheeks flush even hotter than they did back at the party with everyone else saying how talented he is. He fondly rolls his eyes at his boyfriend before poking him in the calf since it’s the closest thing to him at the moment. “Thank you, Haz. Even though you’re supposed to be an _objective_ third party,” he reminds the person who came up with this idea in the first place.

His eyes roll at the word before he’s right back to ignoring all of that and grinning like an idiot. “Right. You’re literally asking for the impossible there, but sure. Whatever. We’ll try pretending like you’re not my favorite person ever.”

Louis is almost certain he’s saying ridiculously cute shit on purpose now when his dimples appear to accentuate the dumb smirk he’s wearing while watching him.

“Fine then. If you can’t be impartial like we agreed then at least be brutally honest?” Louis asks as he connects to his giant studio speakers and clicks through his computer files to pull up the most recent edit of his song. “So, just to give you some background, it’s not strictly EDM,” he warns. “Uh, I tried playing around with some different styles in the structure. I don’t really have an intro because I think it sounds okay without one, b-but maybe not? And, I had this idea to add in lyrics, but I don’t really sing so I wasn’t too sure about-” His explanation is cut off by his boyfriend’s giggled demand of ‘ _Just play it!_ ’ so Louis doesn’t even tell him about the different samples he tried overlaying to create the uplifting yet upbeat sound he was going for. “O-Okay. Sure.”

Louis’ own voice trickles out from his speakers and fills the room once he finally hits play. The raspy sound of it has never been his favorite thing in the world, but he finds he likes it much better with a melody, beat, and lyrics he created all by himself. The fact that he can take his voice and his vision for a song and turn it into something that’s his has always been the part of making music that Louis loves the most.

He chews at his lip as the first verse builds into the bridge, giving way to the much louder chorus that just continues to heighten until it starts all over again with the second verse. It’s past one on a Friday night, but it’s still kind of late to be blasting music this loud. Louis moves to turn it down a bit, freezing when a hand quickly closes around his wrist to stop him. He’s met with the brightest pair of green eyes in the world so Louis lets it play, laughing over the track of his own voice as Harry deliberately increases the volume of it and loudly sings along to the parts he knows. _Mostly_ on key.

When the song fades out and the room is silent again Louis lets his laptop close, counting the seconds that tick by without either of them saying a word.

“Uh… yeah,” he says releasing a big rush of air. “So, like I said, I’ve been playing around with a bunch of different sounds and arrangements, and I thought the lyrics would be a nice touch. It doesn’t really have a name yet but I was thinking _Hold On_. Or maybe _JUST Hold On_? Or- Or maybe not. I don’t really know.” Louis keeps second guessing himself, rambling and saying whatever comes to mind until his chin is being tilted upwards and the sure press of Harry’s lips make it impossible for him to doubt a single thing.

Louis knows they’ve slept through Saturday brunch at the dining hall when he wakes up the next morning starving, but thankfully nowhere near as poorly as he should be feeling after the amount he and Harry drank at that party. He rolls over to face last night’s culprit, only making it about half way before Harry’s arms tighten around his middle like some sort of vise. “ _Nooo_ ,” he groans like he’s being killed as Louis continues turning over and then scoots down the mattress to bury his head in Louis’ bare chest.

“Regretting all that beer after your buffet of shots?” he teases, gently tugging at the mess of curls tickling his skin. Louis tried to warn him about trying to keep up with Niall and Zayn but clearly it didn’t take.

“ _No_ ,” he mumbles with a dejected, “ _Still tired_ ,” which is a lot for Harry, the most morningest morning person ever, to admit.

Louis stops playing with his hair to cuddle him in and hug him closer. “Lucky for you, there’s no Mass on Saturdays. Go on and sleep some more, love. I’ve got you.” Rather than Harry drifting off again like Louis suggested, he feels Harry smile against him instead.

“I know,” he says. “But I don’t wanna sleep though. I’d rather be conscious and with you.”

“I think Aerosmith once said something very similar. Not as eloquently as _you_ just did into my stomach of course. Your way was _totally_ original.” Louis is already expecting the loud cackle Harry lets out before he retaliates by tickling him until he can’t breathe.

“Well, we’re definitely wide awake now,” he laughs once the attack is over. “What would you like to do with all our newfound consciousness?”

Louis has a feeling what that might entail when Harry presses his lips just below the cursive script across his chest.

“M’not sure yet,” Harry hums against his skin. He uses his fingers to trace several more of his tattoos, grinning at the collage of smaller ones covering his arms.

His boyfriend has been admiring his tattoos this way for as long as Louis can remember. Unlike most of the people at Marie Henry, Harry actually likes them. However, lately, that deep appreciation and curiosity about Louis’ artwork has felt way more like genuine interest.  

“I think I want to get one of these today. That’s what I want to do,” he says confirming Louis’ suspicions and making him feel more awake and energized than he thought was possible so soon after waking up.

“Seriously? You really want to get a tattoo? Because I watched Zayn get a new one added to his sleeve at this place about a month ago and the artist was _amazing_ ,” he beams, mind going wild with all the amazing possibilities. “What do you want to get? Do you already have an idea or do you just want to pick one and go with your gut?”

Those are always the best kind for Louis. Getting a physical representation of what you’re feeling right there in the moment Louis thinks he may have gotten a little too excited and asked more questions than someone can physically answer at one time when Harry’s brow furrows.

“Oh- Uh, I’m actually not too sure,” he admits. “I just know that I want one. I have for a while really, but back home my mum probably would’ve murdered me and then I got here and I think I kind of chickened out. Well, until _you_ that is,” he chuckles to himself, running his fingers over Louis’ arm again and making the tiny hairs visible there rise. He stops at the sparrow tattoo on his forearm and smiles which in turn makes Louis smile because it’s one of his favorites. “I’d love to get one like this,” he says quietly. “I think it’s beautiful.”

Adrenaline pumps through his veins just imaging Harry with a bird like his somewhere on his body. And it’s incredibly flattering to know Harry likes his tattoo so much that he wants it etched into his skin until the end of time, but he also knows tattoos being permanent doesn’t always end up as a positive down the road.

“Er- You don’t want to get something a bit smaller for your first one? And also, something that _won’t_ necessarily remind you of me when you’re eighty and your head’s slicker than polished hardwood?”

Harry laughs so loud that stuffy neighbor knocks on the wall behind them.

“Okay, I’m not planning on losing my hair _ever_ , and something to remind me of you is one of my main reasons in wanting it.” Instead of adrenaline, this time Louis feels a million butterfly wings fluttering away inside his stomach. “And, it doesn’t have to be _exactly_ like your sparrow. I can get something actually cool like a pigeon or a nice ostrich,” he teases before choosing something _not_ horrific. “I think I’ll get a songbird since music is so much a part of me. That way I’ll have something to remind me of both loves of my life.”

Louis doesn’t even ask who the other one is besides music. He just smiles wide and ridiculous the whole time they’re getting dressed and walking to the tattoo parlor.

Harry gets his songbird tattoo, but doesn’t stop at just one. He gets two in almost the same place as the script that frames Louis’ collarbones. It’s a much bigger dive into the tattoo world than Louis made with his first one. That single tattoo for Louis led to countless others and this is mostly Harry’s big day, but even so Louis can’t resist getting one too. He chooses a big one as a focal point to balance out all the random tiny ones he has acquired over the years; a compass that points to Home instead of North, that way he has also something to remind him of all the loves of his life no matter where they are. Never mind that the main one is holding his hand as it’s being inked into his forearm.

\------------------

With the solo showcase looming along with the end of Fall semester, everyone including Louis is feeling the pressure. He has more final essays than he can possibly write at once and then there’s his music theory exam that he hasn’t taken yet, but is quite certain may kill him. His academics consume much of his time but his song and his future performance of it are never far from his mind.

He kept feeling like something was missing from it. Some _thing_ or some sound he couldn’t create on his own or find in any sample collection. He only figured out what that missing sound was after he heard Harry play his original composition (which left Louis utterly speechless) and realized a few bars of violin would fit in perfectly in the chorus and bridge of his own. The only problem with that is Louis doesn’t actually _play_ the violin. But, his amazingly talented boyfriend sure does.

“Babe, can we please try it just _one_ more time? Just to make sure we’ve got it?” Louis asks with his sweetest and most charming smile. “Pretty, pretty please with a chocolate cupcake from the dining hall on top?”

Harry pretends to think about it for several moments before cracking a stubborn grin and holding his violin in position once more. “Alright, but make it _two_ cupcakes from the dining hall. _And_ a back massage,” he adds with a smirk. “My shoulders are feeling a bit tense after such a grueling session.”

Louis rolls his eyes at his diva demands, but agrees. “It’s six measures and we’ve been here twelve minutes, but sure. Deal,” he laughs. After all Harry has done by agreeing to help him today, Louis owes him a dozen cupcakes and ten thousand massages just to thank him properly. A pretty low price in his opinion for the chance to work with one of the best violinists at Marie Henry. Not that being stuck in a rehearsal room with him for the afternoon is a particularly hard job. The most collaboration they’ve ever done together is fooling around with Louis’ mixing equipment in the dorm and Harry cackling as Louis makes dying cat noises with his violin. Their styles are about as far apart on the music spectrum as possible, but it’s fun letting them mix for a change.

Harry plays through the short harmony he and Louis came up with earlier in the week. It sounds beautiful like every other piece of music he brings to life, but there’s something extra special about this one knowing it’s going to be part of a song Louis wrote. Louis saves the recording once he’s done and immediately plays it back. There’s no feedback or echo. There also isn’t any background noise this time which is an upgrade from their first few tries at recording with so many other people rehearsing around them.

“Should I play it again or do you think we got it?” Harry asks setting his instrument down.

“No, it’s great I think. Thanks so much, love.” Louis grabs his headphones off the timpani drum for a better listen. It’s so perfect that he can’t resist laying it over his song to see if it sounds as cool as he had hoped. It does. It’s just a rough recording so he need to refine it a bit but still, the violin is an unexpected yet seamless fit. Louis starts on it right away, refining it and playing around with different effects to see how it changes the sound.

Recording today didn’t take nearly as long as Louis had anticipated when he booked the room for a whole hour so he keeps working until someone steps up behind him and eases the left side of his headphones back. The same someone who kisses his cheek from behind and then repeats the action all down the side of Louis’ neck.

“Yes? May I help you?” Louis grins still trying his best to keep working even with his boyfriend being an evil menace. “Er- Babe, just give me like, ten minutes. No, _five_ minutes and I swear I’m all yours,” he says distractedly, blinking up from his screen at the random bottle of lube dangling over his head, just above his line of vision. He closes his laptop immediately, turning to watch Harry shed his clothes as he crosses the room, run his palms across the front of the old piano there, and lean over it in invitation.

Louis’ mouth nearly goes dry at the sight. _Holy shit._

“You’ve really been carrying lube around everywhere we go just in case?” Louis squeezes a hand around himself just thinking about how fucking hot that is.

“Well, no, but I knew we’d be coming here to finish your song today so I was hoping you might want to celebrate,” he smiles. “Plus, I had this dream a few nights ago that you fucked me over one of these pianos, so I’ve been keeping my fingers crossed.”

That’s all Louis needs to hear to completely abandon his laptop, push one of the timpani drums in front of their lock-less door, and start opening Harry up where he’s kneeled over the bench. He does it as quickly as possible, spilling lube all down the insides of his thighs. The mess only helps once Louis shoves his own jeans down and slicks himself up, heart racing and thudding in his chest when he finally eases inside of Harry.

The choked-off sounds he makes with every snap of Louis’ hips makes a new chill rush down his arms. There are people rehearsing in the rooms on either side of them. Louis can hear them practicing through the walls that probably aren’t thick enough to contain the sound Harry makes when Louis picks up the pace, chasing the heat swirling around the pit of his stomach that’s quickly pulling him under.

He isn’t aiming for Harry’s spot when he finds it, making him play a cacophony of sharps and flats when his hand slips from the top ledge of it. “Lou, I’m coming,” he warns not even two seconds before he does it, adding to the mess already streaked down his legs as he spills. The inside of Louis’ jaw aches, biting down on the flesh there to kept from crying out that he’s close too. He pulls out when he feels the first wave of his orgasm hit, sitting Harry down on the bench just in time to come all over the birds inked on his chest. He can’t believe he just did that.

Harry sweeps his fingers through it and swallows it down with a grin, solidifying this as the best day of Louis’ entire life. He can taste himself in Harry’s mouth as they kiss each other down from the high of fucking somewhere they both know they shouldn’t.

Instruments can still be heard around them when Louis pulls back, hoping that wasn’t as loud as he thinks it probably was as they clean up as best they can. Looking at the room, no one would be able to tell anything besides rehearsing went on inside of it once they move the timpani drum from in front of the door to leave the scene of the crime. They step out into the corridor not at all expecting to see Liam standing right outside the door with his violin, signing his name in the timeslot right after theirs.

He greets them with a smile and comments on how convenient it is for them to be leaving early because he really needs to rehearse his piece for his performance final, his brow furrowing and nose wrinkling when he catches the distinct scent of sex wafting out of the room behind them.

“Seriously, you two?” he says with his face about as flat as it can get. “In a _rehearsal_ room?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, mate. Hmm. Strange,” Louis frowns. “Well, enjoying playing! Good luck on your piece!”

“Er- Yeah, Li, we’ll see you at dinner! Good luck!” Harry smiles, shrugging his violin case higher on his shoulder as he takes Louis by the hand and begins quickly walking them away.

“You know there’s no way in hell I’m going in there now, right?” Liam shouts back at them only for them to both snort laughs.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about!” Louis insists. “Love you, mean it! Bye!”

*

The weekend of the showcase arrives much faster than Louis anticipated with so much to get done for the end of semester. Thankfully, the past few weeks of heavy studying is worth it when he takes his exams, and the months of having Harry as his private theory tutor pays offs better than he could’ve imagined when he actually fucking passes the course. With classes over and music theory finally behind him, all he really has left to worry about anymore is his upcoming performance and all the nervous, anxious energy he feels each time he thinks about it.

Since the party they all went to almost a month ago now, Louis hasn’t really given much thought to who he would ask to come mentor him for a day. He’s the obvious outlier in this competition and a first-year student so winning isn’t at all likely, but he asks the school to email Steve Aoki anyway on the extreme off chance that he does win. He’s counting on a rejection before he even receives a reply, and that’s pretty much what he gets when Steve answers that his schedule is too busy right now for him to fly out to Marie Henry. Something Louis didn’t see coming though is the invitation for Louis to fly out and meet him at his actual studio, win or lose. He can’t wait to take him up on the offer.

It’s the evening before the showcase when Louis glances at the giant clock outside the train station for what must be the hundredth time in the last five minutes. Weirdly enough, he’s just as antsy waiting for Harry’s family members to arrive as he was this afternoon when his own step-father and siblings got in. They all loved Harry the moment they met him of course. Something Louis knows about all too well since he fell for Harry just as quickly. His step-father thinks he’s amazing and that Louis’ mother would be proud, and each of Louis’ siblings think Harry is possibly _the_ coolest person ever, as well as the most handsome. Just one more thing Louis completely relates to.

He lets out an anxious breath and tugs at the long sleeves of his sweater to make sure the tattoos on his wrist are covered. It doesn’t really do much good seeing as how he also has them on his hands and the collar of his jumper dips down just low enough for parts of his script to be visible so his top isn’t fooling anybody.

“Will you stop doing that?” Harry laughs taking both of Louis’ hands in his when he catches Louis willing his shirt to grow more fabric. “I already told you, you have nothing to worry about. They’re going to love you and they’re not going to care that you’ve got a couple of tattoos.”

“A couple… Right.” Louis thinks back to just last night when he stripped and made Harry count every single one of them because at this point he’s lost track.

“Er- So you have more than a few,” he grins. “No big deal.”

“I’m literally running out of clean skin and now, so are _you_.” Harry had said his mother would’ve killed him for getting a tattoo when he was younger. He now has a grand total of _four_ , most of which directly correspond with tattoos Louis has so he’s pretty sure if anyone’s getting murdered in this situation it’s going to be him.

Harry doesn’t agree or disagree as he fondly rolls his eyes at him. “Louis, they’re going to love you,” he insists sounding just as sure as he did the first time he said it. “You know how I know that? Because _I_ love you,” he smiles, gently squeezing his hands. “Them loving you is already a done deal.”

They’re in the middle of a kiss when they quickly break apart at the sound of someone excitedly shouting Harry’s name. Or some childhood shorthanded version of it Louis assumes when a girl with his boyfriend’s exact smile lunges at him in the middle of the station entrance. She must be his older sister, Gemma, who Louis has heard so much about. His guess is confirmed when Harry’s face lights up at being ambushed, he claims she’s the worst big sister in the world, and then proceeds to hug her back twice as hard.

“And yet you love me anyway,” she teases. To Louis’ surprise, he receives a hug as well rather than a handshake, leaning into Gemma’s embrace that shouldn’t already feel so familiar. “Nice to finally meet you even though whenever my brother calls he never stops talking about you so it’s like I know you already.”

“Does he now?” Louis smirks, peeking over at his boyfriend and the faint color in his cheeks as he vehemently denies doing any such thing. He receives similar intel from Harry’s mother and yet another warm embrace. Louis gets two more hugs from Harry’s grandparents who don’t even bat an eye at the ink visible below Louis’ collar when it shifts down from all the love.

Harry was right. He had nothing to worry about.   

It turns out he really was worried for nothing later when their families decide to combine for dinner. A terrific suggestion made by Harry’s mother because Louis would’ve definitely missed him had they gone out separately. They’re such a large group that they need two long tables at the restaurant, but no one would be able to guess that they’re mostly strangers from the bright conversation and laughter erupting from their end of the room.

Louis squeezes his boyfriend’s hand on top of the table even with his tattoos showing, laughing so hard his stomach hurts as their eldest sisters joke about which of them would shave off the other’s eyebrows in his sleep for not winning the showcase. Neither of them would ever do something like that of course. The two of them are competitors in this thing, but it’s never really felt like it. It’s all just fun for them. They’d each be proud of each other no matter what and he’s sure everyone knows just based on the way they look at one another after they say as much.

The next night in the wings of the concert hall is when Louis recalls the way Harry winked at him at dinner the previous night as if they’d already won. Although he has never been more nervous than he is right now, he has also never felt so brave and supported with his friends and family waiting in the audience and his boyfriend walking towards him in all black with a smile that’s all starlight.

“ _Woah_. Look at you, love.” Louis runs a palm down the front of his new shirt and suit jacket that fit him like a glove. He’s seen Harry dressed for performances before, but never quite this sleek. Even his hair is styled differently, all swept back to highlight the beautiful angles of his face. Harry rolls his eyes the whole time Louis is admiring him, laughing when Louis grabs his hand to make him do a full turn in front of half of the other contestants and crew members standing in the wings with them. “You look _so_ incredible.”

“No, no, no,” he grins. “ _You_ look incredible.”

Louis feels vastly underdressed in his t-shirt and dark jeans while everyone else looks so formal, as is typical of any recital/showcase, but he would’ve felt even stranger wearing a suit to essentially sing and DJ one song. He did try to clean up a bit though. His hair is freshly trimmed at the non negotiable request of his eldest sisters and he shaved for the first time in ages. Harry runs his fingers over his smooth jawline, his lips soft as rose petals when they land right against Louis’ skin. The tiny hairs on his arms stand up when Harry smooths his hands over them and all his tattoos proudly showing.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers, dropping a kiss to the back of Louis’ knuckles next. “Nervous?”

“Shitting actual bricks.”

They get more than a few stern looks when Harry cackles as if there _aren’t_ hundreds of people just beyond the stage and their chancellor isn’t about to walk out on it. Honestly, he can’t take the lovable idiot anywhere.

“Lou, you have no reason to be nervous. You’re going to be so amazing. They’re going to love it.”

Louis peeks out at the few people in the crowd he can see from where they’re standing, hoping Harry is right about that. He’s the first and only non-traditional student performing in the showcase, so he’s not too sure how his style will be received.

“Thanks, H,” he grins. “If all else fails at least you and our families will clap for me, and Zayn did promise to kick anybody in the balls who boos.”

“How kind,” Harry chuckles, his brow furrowing after a few seconds of imaging it. “What if it’s a woman who boos?”

“Mmm, Zayn’s pretty nondiscriminatory so I’m sure they’re still getting kicked somewhere.” Or at the very least Bebe would do it for him.

Harry draws attention to them again when he laughs like no one else is around. “Well, that would be hilarious to see, but, Lou… it’s not going to come to that. The only thing people are going to do after you perform is stand up and applaud your great talent.”

“Maybe, but only half as much as they’ll applaud yours. You’re going to smash it. I know it,” Louis smiles just as the house lights dim and the chancellor is introduced for his commencement speech. They can’t really talk and joke around anymore once he steps onto the stage and welcomes everyone, but Louis can’t resist pulling his boyfriend into a good luck kiss. “Love you,” he whispers, his chest warming from the inside out when Harry whispers it back.

Once the showcase is officially underway Louis feels himself growing more and more excited to watch Harry take the stage. They listen to a cellist, two pianists, and a singer together before it’s Harry’s turn to perform. All four of which sounded wonderful, but there’s a tenderness and a passion in Harry’s composing that none of them could ever match. Louis has heard him practicing his piece over the weeks, always focusing more on technique than musicality, but tonight he plays to a room full of people as if he and his violin are the only ones there. The happy grin on his face is the same one he wore the very first time Louis ever saw him, playing just like that in an old stairwell making it impossible for Louis to forget him.

When he’s finished the audience finally exhales along with Louis who barely breathed through his boyfriend’s piece, too engrossed in the beautiful intricacies of it to remember how. The room erupts in applause and Louis can’t help but notice that it’s the best and loudest reaction so far. He wishes he could go to Harry and congratulate him, but he’s directed over to the opposite end of the stage from him before being led to his seat in the contestants’ and judges row up front.

The nerves from before come trickling back in now that the high of seeing Harry play has passed. That excitement he had felt for his boyfriend now feels a lot like anxiety as he’s forced to listen to performance after performance alone. His hands shake a bit without the weight of Harry’s to counter it and his heart beat is much faster, the rhythm of it somewhere in his throat knowing his turn is coming up.

Louis is set to go on dead last only because he needs more things for his piece than anyone else does. The crew rolls out all his equipment and Louis can hear the merry tone of the audience change to one of curiosity. His name and year are announced along with the title of his piece which Harry helped him decide on right before he had to submit his final draft of it; _Just Hold On_.

He steps out of the wings into the glare of the stage lights and hundreds of pairs of eyes watching his every move. Louis wonders why the hell he thought this would be a good idea in the first place, that is, until he looks past the lights and the people to see his friends all smiling and waving excitedly from their seats. Niall, Liam, Bebe, and Zayn are all there squeezed in a row in the middle while his siblings and step-father wave from just a few rows up. However, the person he can see the best is the one sitting in the very front row, his violin now carefully tucked beneath his seat, and his green eyes shining up at him just as brightly as the spotlight warming Louis’ face.

His Macbook and a microphone are all he has when the crew manager clears him to begin with a nod. Louis glances out at all his people again, bites down on a smile when one of his friends whoops at him like an arse, and takes a deep breath before building up the arrangement of his song from scratch. There are a few layers of sound that only take a minute to overlap in the correct spots until it’s complete and all he has to do is pick up the mic.

His voice hasn’t been fine-tuned since the age of three like all the other singers they’ve heard tonight, but he thinks it sounds alright echoing through the concert hall. It must sound better than alright because when he looks out over the crowd most people look surprised, but pleasantly so. Nobody looks more delighted and proud to hear him singing the lyrics he wrote than his boyfriend who smirks at him before standing up to start people clapping along to the beat.

Louis’ almost one-hundred percent sure this is the first time that has happened in the history of Marie Henry, but it makes him feel so much more relaxed than the audience watching on in silence as if this is a typical recital. Almost everyone is clapping by the time the chorus comes around again with some people (mostly his idiot friends) singing along to the hook.

‘ _Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh oh, if it all goes wrong,_

 _Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh oh, darling just hold on_.’

It’s the best Louis’ ever felt standing up and just being himself in front of a crowd, and sadly, it’s over much too soon. He doesn’t expect it when his song ends and the noise in the room spikes all over again with emphatic applause. He nods in thanks, unable to stop fucking smiling when he’s led offstage to the wings straight into Harry’s waiting arms. He’s not sure where Harry even came from considering he’s supposed to be in the audience still but Louis’ so glad he isn’t.

“OH MY GOD!” he screams over all the noise still going on. “You were so good! You were incredible! Do you feel incredible?!”

Louis laughs as he nods and connects their mouths. Yeah, he feels pretty fucking incredible.

They take their seats in the front row with all the other contestants as the judges add each performer’s score to determine the night’s winner. Louis is all impatient, anxious energy again as he’s forced to wait, but his smile hasn’t left his face. He’s far too excited to stop, certain that Harry is chewing at his bottom lip for nothing because the judges would be insane to not pick him.

Everyone is asked to go back on stage once a decision has been made. The audience erupts into another fit of applause in a standing ovation for his boyfriend as soon as his name is called. Louis immediately pulls him into the tightest and proudest hug imaginable, watching him blush from all the attention as he receives his award plaque for excellence in musicianship and composition. When he returns Louis lunges to hug him again, grinning and blinking in delighted surprise when Harry goes for a kiss instead that makes the crowd cheer all over again. Nobody louder than their amazing, delinquent friends whistling at them like they’re in the dining hall. Honestly, can’t take them anywhere.

 

_Year Two. Fall Semester: Day One_

It’s a comforting feeling not being one of the newbies walking around with microscopic maps from the student center held two inches from their faces. With two semesters under his belt, Louis doesn’t even need a map, but he does stop to help a three confused-looking students standing near the Beethoven statue.

“Hi, there. I’m Louis. You look like you could use a bit of help?”

“Yes, please,” the girl with long dark braids says as she squints at her map. “We can’t tell which building is Flannery and which one is Flemming?”

“That’s because these maps suck,” Louis laughs. “They’re seriously the worst, but the one online is better.” He pulls it up on his phone and airdrops it to each of them, two of which thank him profusely before taking off towards their first class at a run. Louis’ brow furrows when the girl, Marci, thanks him too and then guesses his last name is Tomlinson without him even saying it. “Er- Yeah. How’d you know?”

“The chancellor,” she grins. “He told all of us about you and Zayn and Bebe. I’m here for production as well so I was really looking forward to meeting you at some point. I’d love to talk to you and so would my friend Declan. He’s the other production student for this year.”

“Oh,” Louis grins to himself, feeling more than a little weird that there are people here who want his advice but flattered all the same. “I’d love to. That’d be amazing.”

“Did you really get to work with Steve Aoki over the summer? Like, in his actual studio.”

Louis had no idea anybody besides his friends and family were even aware of his weekend trip to LA. Not like Harry’s big mentor visit from Vladimir Jurowski, the conductor of the London Symphony Orchestra. A much smarter career move on his part than drunkenly choosing Stevie Nicks or the late Tchaikovsky, since after hearing Harry play for five minutes Mr. Jurowski all but guaranteed him a place with the LSO as soon as he graduates. “Uh, yeah,” he laughs as he puts his number in her phone. “I did. He’s great. I’d love to tell you and Declan all about it.”

“Cool. Just maybe on a day I’m not lost and running so late?” she winces before thanking him again and speeding off in the same direction as her classmates.

A few people from Louis’ year pass by and grin their hellos. Louis grins back, somehow still not used to the fact that people no longer glare. Ever since the showcase he hasn’t had to deal with very much of that. There are still some people at Marie Henry who think he, Zayn, and Bebe don’t belong there, but it’s going to be a lot harder for those people to keep up that kind of thinking with not three, but _twelve_ non-traditional students accepted this year.

Louis remembers after a while that he too has a class to get to so he starts walking towards Matheson building, making a quick stop off at the student coffee shop. Niall, Liam, and Bebe are already standing outside of it when he arrives at the same time as Zayn who looks quite bewildered for day one of his second year.

“Jesus, Z, what’s with the frown?” Niall snorts only making Zayn’s hard expression deepen.

“Some random first-years stopped me to chat about guitar,” he explains. “They like, knew my name and everything. Asked if we could sit down and ‘ _chat_ ’ one day so I told them to stop by if they see us at the dining hall. It was the weirdest thing.”

“Ooh! I got one of those too! Production student,” Louis says excitedly as he passes out everyone’s drinks from two trays. “Apparently, the chancellor’s been bragging about us.”

“Sounds like we’re going to need a much bigger table then because I got one too!” Bebe laughs, kissing her boyfriend until he’s not so freaked out by random strangers wanting to hang out with him and be best friends. Zayn forgets about his mini fan club and starts kissing her back so Louis looks away, grinning when a pair of heavily tattooed arms wrap around his waist from behind.

“Morning. _Again_ ,” he says as Louis turns around to be just as obnoxious as Bebe and Zayn, pressing up to kiss Harry as if they didn’t just see each other back in their dorm room before Louis left early to do the first coffee run of the semester.

“Good morning. One mocha latte for you and one double-shot cappuccino for me,” Louis smiles before handing off the last two drinks he bought.

Harry hums before taking a sip even though he doesn’t even need the caffeine. Louis’ convinced he only places a coffee order because everyone else does.

“Everybody excited for Music Theory 2?” he asks brightly, earning mixed reviews as half of them nod, the other half shrug, and Louis makes a sound like a dying hippo because he barely made it alive through Music Theory 1. “Aw, you’ll be fine, love,” Harry laughs.

That’s easy for him to say. He’s the self-proclaimed theory king and the badass first-year who won the solo showcase last year making him also the violin/composition king. On the plus side, their class starts at nine rather than eight, and this time Louis was fast enough to register for the section of the class that _all_ his friends are in so this year is already looking up.

“No matter what, I want to sit next to you,” Harry whispers once everybody starts heading inside and a great debate unfolds about which area of the lecture hall their group should claim. Louis figured that was a given because he definitely plans to sit next to Harry. In fact, he’s pretty much counting on it for the rest of their lives. He sighs like being near him is some huge imposition anyway just to make Harry smile. As if they didn’t sleep next to each other all night or spend the past hour fooling around in bed wishing they didn’t have to leave it.

“ _Fine,_ I guess,” he rolls his eyes. “If you must.”

“I _must_ ,” Harry insists before stealing a slow kiss from his lips, the two of them snorting into each other’s mouths when Liam shouts at them to stop being gross and hurry up before they leave them.

“Come on. We’re going to be late to theory.” Harry links their free hands together, gesturing towards their friends laughing and _actually fucking leaving them_. “Ready, love?”

This class is going to be tough. And, after such an unbelievable first year at Marie Henry Louis has no idea how the second can top it, but he knows he can’t wait to find out.

“Lead the way, your highness.”

 

 

Three Years Later

The door of the cab slams shut behind Louis after his mad dash out of his flat. Or, at least he _thought_ the door slammed shut. That was before he tried sliding across the backseat with his garment bag in hand and realized it wasn’t moving with him.

“ _Damn it_.”

He quickly slides back the way he came to free the bag from where it got caught in the door, swearing under his breath when his phone starts ringing before he can. Louis digs it out of his back pocket and just as he feared, a picture of his boyfriend flashes up at him and illuminates the dark interior of the cab.

“ _Damn it. Shit, shit, shit_ ,” he hisses having just enough time to open the door, yank out the bag, and beg his driver to stop blasting Ed Sheeran all before accepting Harry’s call with a surprisingly composed, “Hey, baby, how are you? Uh- Give me one second.” He quickly shuts the car door behind him again, this time managing to not smash his suit jacket in the door. He sits back and wonders why the hell he’s still parked in front of his flat before scooting forward in his seat to give his unimpressed, impatient-looking cab driver the address of where he’s going.

“Okay, love. I’m back. Sorry about that. So, how are you?”

“…Um, I’m alright I guess,” Harry answers carefully. Louis can hear and practically see his forehead crinkle in worry. “Did I wake you? I’m never quite sure about the time difference. Or, are you busy? Because I can always call back after-”

“No, no! I’m awake and not busy at all,” Louis assures him as he unzips his garment bag to dig through it. “That was just- er- room service! Yeah. But they’re gone now so it’s just me here.” The rearview mirror reflects yet another unimpressed look from his cab driver at Louis’ blatant lie and the fact that he’s using his car as a dressing room as he swaps out his Converses for the nice oxfords he only wears for special occasions. Louis offers the man a sheepish grin that dissolves into a frown when he realizes he forgot change out of his white socks. Sockless it is.  

“Oh! Li and I heard your song on the radio today,” Harry says so brightly Louis can just imagine the smile to go with it as he skillfully moves the phone from between his left ear and his shoulder to his right to shrug on his jacket.

“Seriously?! How sick.”

“I know. It was. It made me think of you. And miss you of course,” he admits quietly. “I know you’re off being amazing and all, but a small part of me still wishes you could be here tonight.”

The longing in his voice practically rips Louis’ heart in two, making him freeze with his right arm only half-way in his jacket sleeve. “I know, love. I really miss you too. I’m so sorry.” Louis leaving for nearly a month was never part of the plan, but Steve invited him on the road to help promote and perform the song they wrote and produced together. It’s almost impossible to say no to someone who has been his mentor for years. It’s even more difficult saying it when that same mentor also happens to be a great friend.

“So, how’s everyone? Everything?” he changes the subject, shoving his arm into his jacket once he realizes they’re only a couple of block away from the theatre. “It’s almost showtime, right?”

“Yeah, in a few minutes,” Harry answers. “Just wanted to hear your voice before.”

Again, Louis’ heart clenches for him as he softly laughs it off. “Me? I should be the last thing on your mind on a big night like this,” he teases. “This is your _dream_ , babe, and you’ve more than earned it.”

He’s been playing with the London Symphony Orchestra for over six months now, but this is the first time he’s going to be featured as the violin first-chair. It was open since an injury caused the usual first chair to take a leave of absence that could last months. Harry’s little more than half that women’s age so he’s still quite ‘green’ as they say, but he’s worked hard and he killed his audition to be able to take her place. Something like this is huge for Harry and should be properly celebrated. Which is why Louis made up a very elaborate lie about him and Steve having to play some big emergency gig and then booked the first flight out of Vegas he could find to make it here on time.

Louis pays and makes sure to grab all his shit when they pull up outside the theatre. “Really? Wow. How sweet of them,” Louis says in answer to Harry’s story about the bouquet of flowers from Bebe, Zayn, and Niall that were waiting for him when he arrived. Flowers and a card would’ve been a nice touch for Louis as well, but hopefully Harry won’t mind just getting him instead.

He quickly makes his way to the musician’s wing, using his hand to cover the speaker of his phone when he stops to ask a few of Harry’s co-workers if they’ve seen him.

“Oh. Is someone else there again? Should I let you go?” his boyfriend asks only for Louis to take off down the corridor at a run.

“No. No one’s here.”

“It’s not room service again?”

“Er- Sure. Yeah,” Louis says desperately searching for the room labeled _Strings Storage,_ nearly cheering aloud when he finds it and realizes who’s waiting just behind it.

“Oh. Well, listen, babe. I should probably let you go anyway. I know you’re busy and I’ve got to get to the stage in a few minutes, but I just wanted to-” The echo of a knock at the door can be heard over the phone, lagged just a second behind the real one Louis just made. “Uh, hang on. Someone’s at the door,” Harry tells him, snorting a bit as he walks over to it. “It’s probably Liam trying to figure out why I’ve locked myself in h- _here_. OH MY GOD! Lou!?” he shouts into his phone so loudly that Louis instantly yanks it away from his ear.

“ _Ouch_ ,” he laughs followed by a much more enthusiastic, “Surprise!” complete with a flourish that Harry just stares at like he’s dreaming.

“You’re really here!” he exclaims. “B-But- How? What about the promo schedule and- and the gig with Steve?”

“I took a promo break and the gig never existed. Made it all up,” he shrugs. All Louis has been envisioning since he planned this whole thing is Harry’s reaction, but in all his daydreaming about them reuniting he never once considered that there’d be tears. Louis gently pries Harry’s phone out of his hand and presses end when his eyes start to fill faster than Louis can make it stop.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry,” he chuckles. “I’m sorry. Come here,” He sets down all the things he’s carrying; his wallet and his garment bag, his phone, _Harry’s_ phone to hold him and finally kiss him like he’s been dying to for the past three weeks. It feels so good to have Harry in his arms again. It feels like coming home.

“I thought you were still in Vegas,” he sniffs once he pulls back.

“Mmm, nope. Not since about twelve hours ago, I’m afraid,” Louis laughs, his stomach swarming with butterflies when Harry smooths a hand down the front of the same jacket he’s worn to every one of Harry’s performances.

“Wait. You got this from the flat? You’ve already been home?”

“Just to drop off my stuff and get dressed. Well, _half_ -dressed,” he corrects himself. “I didn’t have much time to hang around if I was going to get here before you left to go be brilliant.”

There’s a fresh wave of tears when Harry kisses him, deep enough that the butterflies stir again and Louis’ heart skips a beat. “I love you _so_ much,” he whispers.

“I love you right back. And you’re going to be so amazing tonight. I couldn’t miss that for the world.”

“Even though you lied through your teeth to get here,” Harry fondly rolls his eyes. “Room service? Really, Lou?”

Louis snorts at that, unable to avoid the playful shove Harry aims at his chest.

Out in the theatre house Louis finds his seat rather quickly thanks to Niall, Bebe, and Zayn waving at him from the third row back from the stage. He excuses himself about a dozen times as he squeezes past all the other people already sitting down, sighing in relief when he’s finally able to flop down next to them just as the house lights dim.

“Did you make it in time?” Bebe whispers across their friends, smiling approvingly when Louis answers with two thumbs up just as the curtain starts to rise to a full house of applause.

Getting here was no easy task, but he did it. He would’ve moved a mountain to be able to kiss Harry good luck for one of the biggest moments of his career, just before he makes this one of the biggest nights of his life. _Their_ life.

“Did you remember the ring?” Niall hisses right next to him. Louis pats his front pocket, feeling the outline of the small jewelry box he’s been hiding in their flat for months tucked inside. Just one other thing Louis had to stop by the flat for. The most important thing in the world. He pulls it out and opens it to show them all, smiling so big it hurts when Niall claps him on the shoulder. “Good man,” he beams proudly. “Good luck.” Bebe and Zayn who have already done this before echo similar well wishes, her ring finger glittering in the low light with the ring Zayn gave her last year.

Louis tucks Harry’s ring back into his pocket before the curtain reaches the top of the stage, nodding at Liam who gives him a sneaky thumbs up around his violin, before locking eyes with Harry; Louis’ gorgeous, blotchy, pink-faced future husband whose nervous grin makes Louis smile so big it hurts.

“Thanks, everybody,” Louis whispers as the conductor gives the first wave of his hand, grateful for his friends and their overwhelming support, but also certain that when it comes to Harry, luck is one thing he won’t need. This life was meant for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this if you did, and thank you to infinity and beyond, Tabby! <3
> 
> Also, please share this [ rebloggable fic post](http://all-these-larrythings.tumblr.com/post/173555841366/this-melody-was-meant-for-you-32k-by) if you liked it!


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